Pirates of the Caribbean: The Past of Four Souls
by hyperionwitch
Summary: Captain Jack Sparrow visits Tortola with a mind to find an old friend, but when the friend joins another crew and Jack makes a deal with the captain to get her back, he has absolutely no idea what insanity he’s getting himself into. PLEASE R&R! COMPLE
1. Riven Memoir

"And did you hear?"

"Hear what?"

"Mary saw the Black Pearl!!"

"No! No she didn't, she said it didn't have black sails."

"Well then what ship was it? I thought Commodore Norrington at Port Royal at captured all of the other pirates…"

"So did he."

A young woman looked up from where she sat. She had dirty-looking blonde hair held up with a blue bandana, rough clothes, and bag thrown over her shoulder. Her darkly outlined eyes glanced toward the group of women, who were merrily gossiping. 

"Well--when did she see this ship?"

"Just the other day, from what I hear. She saw it at the port."

"Is it still there??"

"Why, are _you_ going to go scold them?"

The women laughed. Another woman rushed up next to them from down near the docks and tapped one of them on the shoulder.

"Mary!!" One of them gasped, trying to hide a smile.

The new woman, Mary, stared at the group wide-eyed. "At the docks--a ship with black sails!! It's the Black Pearl!!"

The young woman stood up, bag in hand, and with a barely noticeable nod towards the group, headed toward the water's edge, walking distinctively toward a man, a pirate, coming from the large tall-ship with black sails; the Black Pearl.

The pirate had an appearance of being drunk--either that, or terribly disoriented. He was clad in a heavy brown jacket, leather boots, and a presumably once-clean white shirt. Around his waist was a loosely tied sash, colored, strangely enough, in a faded sort of pinkish-coral and cream. On his head was a heavily worn, brown leather tricorn hat. This hat covered his hair, which was a very dark brown, nearly black, and done in dreadlocks in front. Several small amounts of hair lining his face were braided and beaded, one specific braid having a large silver medallion attached at the bottom. The hair in the back of his head was loose and somewhat curly, if you could call it that, and a decent portion of it was covered by a thick braid. Around his forehead, mostly hidden by his hat, was a red bandana that was knotted and had a hefty quantity of fabric trailing after it. He had a fairly thin, black moustache and a small beard that was split into two parts and braided, as well as a small tuft of hair just beneath his lip. He seemed to singing something under his breath. It sounded strangely like something about 'bad eggs.'

He looked up at the woman, who was still heading towards him. He raised his dark eyebrows and stopped walking.

"Sarah!" He said, a hint of amusement, as well as surprise, in his low, raspy voice.

It only had taken her a few more steps to reach him, now that he had stopped, and, before he could say anything, she stretched out one hand and slapped him hard across the face.

"I don't think I deserved that…"

"Jack Sparrow!"

"_Captain _Jack Sparrow, actually."

Sarah Warren smiled wryly and placed her hands on her hips. "_Captain_ Jack Sparrow." She slapped him again.

"I _definitely_ didn't deserve that one."

"Oh you didn't, did you?" She glared at him, dropping her bag. "Really. That's interesting. Gee, I'm sure _I_ could find a good condemnation--"

"You know, there actually _was_ a reason that I didn't hire you on the Pearl." Jack rubbed his face sourly. Sarah narrowed her eyes and tilted her head casually. She threw her hands into the air.

"I'm SURE."

Jack frowned and slightly lifted a finger in protest. "Ah--to be quite honest with you, I heard you were here, so…" He mashed his mouth thoughtfully, to one side of his face for a moment, then continued; "I came to ask you if you'll…come work on the Pearl…?" His face looked hopeful, and at the same time, very skeptical.

As did Sarah's.

"Come work on the Pearl?" She stared at him for a moment, as if considering, then barked a laugh. "Hah!! Never! You had your chance."

He sighed, then, with a determined tone and a grin, he added, "Oh good, because I was _bluffing_."

"Well you CERTAINLY had _me_ fooled!!" She snapped, smirking. He just growled, a little frustrated. She turned around. "I'll be seeing _you_ Jack." Her hand gripped her bag again and she flung it over her shoulder.

There was no way to win this conversation, and as she began to walk away, he sighed, feeling a bit defeated. Frowning for a moment, he dropped his jaw a bit, then advanced slightly, lifting his index finger again.

"…Sarah, wait!"

She turned lazily. He walked closer to her and noted the look on her face--annoyance and impatience. He carefully chose his words, then spoke.

"You're still in the pirating business, aye?" He watched her roll her eyes and shift her weight to her other foot.

"No Jack, I'm not. I married the Prince of Wales over the summer and I'm here to stake out land for a new fort." She smiled in an _almost_ sincere grin and Jack loosely thought that, for a sarcastic, sore bat, she was quite attractive wit this expression--even if her smirk was mocking. There was a long silence, then her grin faded. "Aye, of _course_ I'm still in the pirating business."

"Well then, where's your ship?"

"…" An odd look crossed her face--some sort of cross between embarrassed and furious--then it was replaced by a cool, wry smile. "I'm in the market. As it were."

"Just…think it over, please? You don't have to accept the offer…but…will you meet me at the Flintlock Pub tonight?" He cringed preemptively, awaiting her recoil in the form of a biting remark or worse, a sharp smack, but instead she faltered in her reply, then turned her head.

"Fine." She answered. "But avast, Jack--any attempt at something untrustworthy, and you'll find yourself missing a good deal of skin, savvy?"

"…Savvy."

As she strolled away, Jack sighed and relaxed, wondering how and why he put up with her. If this attitude kept up, he wasn't sure if he would _want_ her on his ship anymore. Superstition or not, it was better to keep such hot-headed women off of a seafaring vessel, in Jack's not so humble opinion. They weren't worth the trouble they caused, not in the least bit. Well…maybe a little. He grinned as this thought entertained him, and headed on his way.

"What nerve…" Sarah muttered, passing the very tavern where she was supposed to meet Jack later that night. "It's bloody _rash_ to ask that after he _marooned_ me." She shifted the bag on her shoulder, then stopped and leaned against a wall. "Though it _does_ make me curious as to what he'll say if I _do_ show up…maybe it _is_ worth my while." She smiled. "Looks like I'll be at the Flintlock Pub tonight."

In yet another tavern, not too far away, a young woman with exotic red hair sat at a table, surrounded by men offering her drinks and not so lively conversation. She was resting her face on her hand, bored to the extreme--at least she didn't have to pay for refreshment.

"So, Miss Frost, I hear you sail aboard the Death Lily." One man said. She looked up and narrowed her ebony eyes.

"I _own_ the Death Lily, and don't you forget it." She replied in a heavy, Irish accent.

"Own it! That's mighty fine there, Miss, now, why be a lovely young wo'man like yerself getting' involved with pirates, eh?"

She looked away. "For the treasure, of course." Some men could be so dimwitted. She tapped several long fingernails on the surface of the table and listened to the men chatter.

"Ah, ye be the _real_ treasure, Miss Frost, let me buy ye another drink…" The man disappeared and another took his place. For a woman who seemed so disinterested in men, she sure had a lot of admirers. The new guy spoke then:

"So you're the _captain_ of the Death Lily?" He had an American accent--not to common in the Caribbean--and it sounded flat and dull compared the to many eclectic voiced populating the islands.

"Aye."

"Well! I feel bad for them men--must be terrible then for your crew--everyone knows a woman is bad luck to have aboard! Unless, of course, she's a captive from a raid, and even then she's only good for one night!" He guffawed and slapped his knee, finding it very hilarious that a lady would be on a ship, let alone a captain of said ship. Captain Frost raised her head, not turning her face to the man. She merely glanced at him, her pale hands now resting on the table, then relieved him of his left eyes in a mediocre display of crimson and silver. Amid the cries of pain, she replaced her knife and said to the man:

"You're welcome to share your opinion, and I'm open to it, but only if you're willing and ready to lose both of you're eyes." She turned to the remainder of the wide-eyed group. "I bid you g'day, gentleman." She made her way easily through the crowd (most of the people were making a path for her to get through), and pushed past a messy, dreadlocked, slightly familiar man when she arrived at the door. "Move." She said to him. He stepped back and stared at her as she left, right up until the point where the door slammed in his face and he fell over from the force.

Outside, yet another man was standing, patiently waiting for someone. That someone happened to be our friend, Miss Frost. The man had silver hair that hung down a bit in his eyes, mismatched and rough-looking clothes, and finely tanned skin. 

He glanced at the captain and raised his eyebrows so that they nearly disappeared beneath his hair.

"I thought I'd find you here." He said as she turned around and looked at him. She nodded sarcastically.

"Didja now?" She smiled a very tiny bit. He did as well, then they began to walk toward the docks, talking at sparse intervals along the way. Eventually, he looked toward her bloody hand.

"Fight?"

"Aye, and you'd best stop askin' questions if ye plan to keep your hands."

He laughed and she smirked, crossing her arms. "I know you're lying--we're too good of friends for your lies to convince me." He grinned.

"And I know you're too afraid to question me."

Miss Frost and the man were nearly to the Death Lily when she stopped to stare at the blonde-haired figure standing in front of it, staring with a curious air. Frowning, she walked over to the person and tapped them on the shoulder.

"Aye! What are ye doing standing in front of me ship?" She said. The person was a woman, older than the captain, but shorter in height.

"This is your ship?" She asked, looking bewildered. It was Sarah. Miss Frost stuck out her jaw for a moment, then reversed her face to the way it was.

"Yes, my ship. Why are ye staring at it?"

"...Ah--I'd like to work on it." She looked confused. The captain wasn't exactly the politest captain she had met.

At first Miss Frost merely stared at her, deciding what to think of her, then she said, "You work for the Nosferatu, don't you?"

"The who?"

"That's what they all say!" She cried. The man was rolling his eyes, but did not say a thing in defense of Sarah. "Why are you here!?"

"To get a job on your ship, you crazy shut in!" Despite her complete honesty, the captain did not seem to buy it. She stepped back and glared at her.

"Lies." She seized her by the wrist and forcefully dragged her to the Death Lily, the man trailing behind. Sarah would have struggled, but she was   
too surprised that she was being pulled on board to remember to.

There was a long silence as Sarah stood up from where Miss Frost had set her down (to put it kindly). The sun was hidden behind a few clouds,   
so it wasn't as sunny as it had been before.

"I--" She began, but the captain interrupted her.

"Why did the Nosferatu send you?" She questioned, her red hair hanging dully near her shoulders. Sarah sighed--she doubted that this woman would believe her, no matter what she said.

"I don't work for the Nosfer-whatever, I'm trying to get a job on a ship. _That's_ why I'm here, I'm not lying. Honestly!"

Instead of insisting that she was some sort of spy for a ship that she couldn't pronounce, Miss Frost started again, looking thoughtful. Sarah, meanwhile, glanced around at the crew members watching her in silence. It was a little eerie.

"Well…ye could be right. You're not exactly Nosferatu material, and besides, your story wouldn't cut it if you _were_ a spy. But a job on the ship…huh…Asher, what do ye think?" She seemed to be speaking to the silver-haired man. He raised his eyebrows again, and crossed his arms.

"Huh? Well…I don't…know. Do we need any more crew members?" Both of them looked around for a moment, evidently surveying the amount of living, moving bodies aboard. 

"No," She replied, briefly cocking one eyebrow, then returning to her neutral position.

The man (his name appeared to be Asher) shrugged. "Well, you're the captain. You decide."

She grinned sardonically. "That's what I like about you." He made a 'heh' noise, and she did the same, then she turned to Sarah. "Well then, if ye want to work on _this_ ship," She clasped her hands behind her back and smiled, giving off a satirical sort of quality. "ye'll have to fight _me_."

Asher didn't look startled at her decision, but he didn't look expectant either. Some sort of mix of the two. Confused at the captain's ultimatum, Sarah contemplated. _Well, it didn't take her long to decide that I wasn't working for…uh…those people. I'm not sure if I should be thankful or not... In any case, would I want to work for her if she has such an indecisive personality? One minute she was accusing me of being on some strangely named ship, and the next she's telling me that to work on this ship, I gotta fight her. And do I want to fight her? Oh gee, tough choice. But, I _do_ want to work on a ship, and though I must say, she's as scary as the fires of Hell, I guess it's worth a shot. Nothing ventured nothing gained, right?_ She sighed after reviewing her verdict, then nodded shortly. "Okay."

And so, as the women unsheathed their swords and several crew members, found more comfortable seating, the fight commenced. It happened in mostly reverent silence--why talk when you can watch a cat fight? The sun still had not come out from behind the clouds, and it made everything a shade darker. Sarah spent the majority of the battle blocking attacks--she would rather _not_ have lost a limb or two. Gradually, she began to attack as well, and the air was soon filled with the clashing of blades. After what felt like four hours (but was actually around two minutes), Sarah knocked the saber out of Captain Frost's hand. The young woman stepped back, then bulled out a knife and threw it at her opponent's right hand. The projectile weapon struck the sword that Sarah held, and she dropped it, startled by the attack, then she found herself at the end of another of the captain's knives.

"You cheated," She said, almost questioning her. Miss Frost smiled with the same dry quality as before.

"Pirate," She replied, with an Oh-my-good-golly-how-obvious sort of tone in her voice. She turned, retrieved her sword, then returned to where she stood. "But I lost me weapon because of ye. That's close enough to winning…unfortunately." She didn't seem thrilled about having to hire Sarah, even though she had full authority to just kick her off the boat. "You have a name, missy?"

"…Pandora." Sarah replied. She always gave people her nickname. A light breeze blew throw the air and ruffled her messy bangs. The sun was now reappearing, as if it had been hiding from the captain's wrath (quite understandable, as it appeared) and was now emerging from it's position of secrecy.

Miss Frost nodded. "Well, me mates here only have one rule," She paused, took a step closer, and clasped her hands behind her back. "_I'm always right_." She paused again. "Remember that, and welcome to the Death Lily."


	2. An Agreement

"So you know my name…but do I just call you captain?" Sarah was following Miss Frost by instruction as she gave the newcomer a _brief_ tour of the ship. They were now below deck and in front of the crew members' quarters

"Well…yes, ye'd be callin' me Captain Frost, or just Captain…but me name is Talia Frost." She scowled as she said this, as if she regretted releasing her name to the public. "Firstly, do NOT go in there." She pointed to one door, sort of off by itself, which Sarah figured was Talia's quarters. "Secondly, ye'll be sleeping…eh…somewhere. In one of these three rooms," She motioned to three doors that were directly in front of them. "I'd tell ye which one, as I'd _like_ to, but the damn crew occupying two of 'em keep switching. Perhaps that's stop once ye have a place." Though the wording itself may have sounded nice…or rather, nice _enough_, her tone was harsh and blunt. Sarah lengthened the corners of her mouth, then relaxed again. "Just start opening doors." The blonde frowned. The captain certainly was _specific_, she noted. "As for work…" Talia began to walk away, but didn't get very far before she turned around again. "do what needs to be done. Load, unload, rig sails, fire cannons, whatever is needed." She, yet again, began to walk away, then turned once more. "Go make yourself useful."

As she walked away, Sarah reflected again. She felt very odd taking orders from a woman who was eight years younger than she was, but she reasoned that, if the younger was more qualified to be the captain, then the captain the younger would be. After a short silence, Sarah went to look for a room, which went quickly since she found an empty one on her second try.

Later that night, Sarah realized with growing dread that she still had to meet Jack at the Flintlock Pub. Why did it seem like he messed up even the most trivial of dealings? She felt almost scared to ask Talia if she could leave for a little while, though logically, it shouldn't have been a problem--she didn't have anything to do. Sick with fright that the captain would sever the connection between her head and the rest of her body, she approached Talia at the back of the ship.

"Er…captain?"

"…What?"

"…I just remember that I had a previous engagement scheduled for tonight that I must attend."

"Oh. Do you?"

"Yes."

"Hmm. Go on."

She frowned. "Ah--what else is there to say?"

Talia had seemed somewhat calm, if not suspicious, compared to her previous blunt…meanness, but now the serenity was replaced with sarcasm.

"Well, ye _could_ tell me what you're going to do."

"Ah--meet…someone?"

"Hm. Meet someone. Well, in that case, you may go," She paused, and Sarah turned to leave, but she continued. "but I'll have to go with you."

"What?" Sarah spun back around. Talia smirked. "B-but…" _This is insane, I'm being taken advantage of by a girl eight years younger than me!_ In the end, she couldn't argue--Talia wouldn't let her leave unless she came along, and Sarah had said she would meet him. Sure, she didn't mind lying, not in the least bit, but her curiosity was propelling her. So she and her captain set off for the Flintlock Pub.

Sarah stuck her head in and looked around, hoping either she had the wrong place, Jack forgot, or he was too drunk to notice if she didn't arrive. Unfortunately, he _was_ there, sitting at a table, and he looked sober. Okay, not really, but sober _enough_ to notice if she wasn't there. Talia was standing about a foot behind her, but in her unconscious mind, it felt like she was poking her in the back to get her going. Somewhat regretting her agreement to meet him, she stepped inside and slowly trudged toward the table, Talia following close behind.

She sat down and Jack looked up from his gaze at the table.

"Sarah!" He said, smiling, then, clearly remembering what happened the _last_ time he saw her and said 'Sarah' enthusiastically, he cringed and blocked his face.

"Jack. Firstly, call-me-Pandora, and secondly--"

"Sarah?" Talia put in, leaning down. "Your name is Sarah?"

Jack looked up, surprised to see someone besides Sarah, but then he replied, "Sarah Warren, to be precise." Sarah glared at him. Talia sat down next to her.

"Really. You told me your name was Pandora."

"It _is_ Sarah, but I prefer Pandora," She explained, still glaring at Jack, who shrugged. "In _any_ case, why _exactly_ did you ask me to meet you here?"

"Ah, me first. Age before beauty." He grinned. A loud smack polluted the air around the table, and Jack nodded, grimacing. "Right, okay. I'll knock it off. First, on my half, why's she here?" He motioned to Talia, who looked a bit insulted, probably because someone as ragged and drunk-looking (and rightfully so) as Jack was referring to her as if she was a piece of furniture.

"I got a job on a ship. This is the captain, who insisted on coming." At this statement, he looked a bit disappointed, then he turned to Talia.

"And what is your name?" He asked. Talia stared for the longest time, perhaps contemplating which name to give him. Blinking, she replied,

"Talia Frost. _Miss _Frost to you."

"Mm," He began, stroking his beard--or what there was of it. "you look familiar. Have we met?" Talia cocked an eyebrow, a doubtful expression gracing her pale face. "Well, that answers me question. Now. Sarah. You wanted to know why I called you here--"

"After you left me on an island to die and then came groveling back to ask if I would work on your ship, right?" Sarah interrupted him, leaving him with his mouth slightly ajar. She wasn't exactly sure why she was lashing out--she just was.

"…Yes."

At this point, Talia stood up and pointed at Jack, knocking over her chair in the process.

"You!" She shouted. "You! Jack Sparrow!"

"…_Captain_ Jack Sparrow, actually." He replied. Then he frowned and pointed at her, as well. "And you…you're that girl from the trading company!"

"Yes!"

"Yes!"

There was a long silence. Talia sat down and Jack lowered his finger. Sarah's eyes moved from one to the other, confused. "So you two know each other?" Talia turned to her and gave her yet another gee-so-obvious-handicapped-genius look, which answered her question quite neatly.

"Well, after our many interruptions--" He paused, as if waiting for someone else to begin talking, as that had become very popular in the last five minutes, then he continued. "I'll tell Sarah--ah, Pandora--why I've called her here, and it is _very_ nice that you have come, Miss Frost. You see, I'm trying to get Sarah here on my ship. Now that she's on yours…why don't we make a deal?"

Talia paused. "What kind of deal…"

Sarah felt left out. _She_ had been called here and now he wasn't even talking to her, instead, talking to her boss. She wondered if he had been planning this from the beginning.

"What are you up to at the moment? Any quests…journeys…perhaps a quest for a journey?" He squinted, trying to think of something clever to say.

"…Looking for a ship."

"Ah!!" He cried. "I see, a ship, and what ship might this be?"

Talia was not enthused. She did not want to tell this man _anything_ about what she was up to--he seemed too untrustworthy, too spirited to be serious about what he was saying. She told him anyway.

"The Nosferatu."

"What?"

"Nos-fer-ah-too." She said blankly. He made an odd face, then sighed.

"…Alright. Okay. So you're looking for this…Nosfer-whatsit. Well, what do you say _I_ come with you--on my own ship, of course."

"Come with me…why? What's in it for you?"

He grinned, showing off his magnificently multicolored teeth. "Why, to be in the pleasure of good company, of course."

Sarah but in. "Oh, you filthy liar." He looked at here, not to astonished.

"And you're not?" She didn't reply, nor did she speak for the most part of the end of the deal.

Talia decided. "I don't _need_ your help. Find some hapless, cold-hearted bilge rat to spin your tales to."

"Well, that's why I came to you." Sarah choked on air. Perhaps someone should have warned him about Talia's short fuse (Sarah had only known her for a short time, but she already knew about her explosive personality.). Talia stood up and whipped out four knives.

As much as she would have liked to see Jack as a pin-cushion, Sarah stood. "Captain--you must remember--this _is_ Jack you're about to impale. He has tendencies," She said. Talia turned to her and she was deathly afraid that she would kill her instead, but she merely sat back down and slammed the edges of the knives into the table. Jack glanced at Sarah and mouthed "Thank you." Sarah shrugged and looked away.

"Ah--anyway…"

"Yes, _anyway_, why would I want to travel with _you_? What evidence do I have that you can be trusted?"

"To be completely honest, which I'm not, none. But…if I go with and assist you to your satisfaction…well….I get Sarah and you'll ne'er see me again." He held out his hand to Talia.

"WHAT!?" This time, it was Sarah's turn to stand and knock over her chair. Talia grasped his hand.

"Agreed."

Instead of slapping Jack, Sarah just stared at him, rage building, then stormed out of the building.

Talia crossed her arms. "I'm not getting her."

"Oops." Jack scratched his head and removed his hat. "'Suppose I shouldn't have done that." He slowly pulled out his compass and toyed with it for a while, then replaced it and put his hat back on. "Ah well. She'll get over it. She always does."

Sarah, outside, walked as fast and far away from the tavern as she could. She was furious. Jack _and_ Talia had just bartered her off like property. She sat down at the side of the street, a familiar habit of hers. Luck never had been on her side. There were so many jumbled thoughts in her head, she couldn't concentrate on any one thing. It was very dark out, but the sky was clear of clouds.

After a few minutes, she heard footsteps behind her. Since she was ninety-nine percent sure of who it was, she stood, turned around, and slapped him. Jack touched his face, squinting.

"Right. That one I deserved."

"Yes, you did." _As if I don't have _enough_ reason to hate him._ She placed her hands on her hips.

"Uh--could I expl--"

"No. Good _night_, Captain Jack." She turned and left him in the dark. He sighed, frustrated.

When she returned to the Death Lily, Talia was already there, at the helm of the ship, humming and singing something about a "breath-taking, hair-raising bed." Sarah opened her mouth to say something, but couldn't. Talia closed her eyes. "We're setting sail tomorrow," She said as Sarah stalked off.


	3. Everybody's Fool

"Get up!" Talia shouted through Sarah's door. She sat up so quickly that she fell out of her bed and knocked her skull against the floor. She watched, shocked by the fall, as the captain slammed her door.

"Thanks for the wake-up call…" She muttered, slowly dragging to her feet. By the way she fell into her wall, unbalanced, when she was finally standing, it seemed that they had already set sail. Leaving her quarters and heading up on deck, she scornfully wondered why Talia bothered waking her up at all if she didn't even have a specific job. However, she didn't ponder this long, because the sun stabbed at her eyes as she emerged from below. "Oh my sweet pigeons!" She gasped, shielding her eyes from the light. It was quite a drastic transition from the dark rooms below to the open air.

The crew was busy performing menial tasks that she was sure she would have no part in, and Talia was at the helm, watching over all actions with hawk-like perception. It was a bit unsettling, but then again, it _was_ Talia Frost. It wasn't long before Sarah spotted the silver-haired man, Asher, leaning casually against the edge, apparently supervising Talia's supervision. Having nothing better to do, she approached him.

"Hello," She said, feeling awkward. It felt like everyone she met was taller than her--and they were. He looked down at her.

"'Lo," He replied. She felt a little relieved that he actually replied. "D'you need something?" Now, if Talia had said this, she wouldn't have _said_ it, she would have _spat_ it. Or so Sarah assumed from what she knew about her. However, Asher seemed like he meant it in an almost completely sincere way. Almost completely.

"Ah--just wondering who everyone is. On the ship," She said, pretty much truthfully. She had absolutely no idea who was who on the ship and, aside from Talia and sometimes Asher, she mostly nervous that she'd get someone's name wrong. Asher, in reply to her statement, nodded slowly.

"Well…of the people you need to know (a lot of them you can figure out the names of yourself), there's…hah, well, Talia, obviously." Sarah glanced at her and laughed.

"Yeah, I know Talia." He laughed as well, then continued.

"Right, who doesn't? Anyway, then there's me, Asher, and I'm first mate."

"Okay."

"And him, over there," He motioned to a very tall man who was, oddly enough, playing card with another crew member--it seemed strange that they would sit aboard the Death Lily, with Talia practically breathing down their necks, playing cards and _not_ working. _Maybe she likes cards._ She thought. Her mind's excuse was not a very good one. Still, it didn't really matter to her what another person on the ship did--just so long as she didn't end up mangled or something. "that's Ryan." Asher finished. In all of her thoughts of 'what could they possibly be thinking?', she had almost forgotten that she didn't know the guy's name yet.

"Ryan, okay."

Her guide of sorts pointed at another man. "That's Chess. Sometimes called Mr. Chess. It all sort of depends on who you are."

"What would I call him?"

"How should I know? Like I said, it all depends on who you are."

"Ah, okay."

At this point, he lowered his voice and glanced around suspiciously. "Everyone else…" He bent down so his head was closer to hers. This was, once again, odd for Sarah because Asher was several years younger than she was. _Curse my stunted growth._ "…we call 'em the invisibles. They don't talk to us, we don't talk to them. Ye'd best be staying away from them."

She frowned. What a foreign concept. Just as she was about to go into another long-winded thought process on the theory that is 'the invisibles,' Talia began yelling at such an individual. Startled by the development, the man looked up from what he was staring at and cringed at the force of the woman's fury. Apparently, he was doing something wrong.

"What's wrong with her?"

Sarah spun around to see Jack hovering behind her and watching Talia with baffled interest.

"What?? How'd you get over here??" She stammered, her expression a mix of confusion and annoyance that was common on her face.

"Hmm?" He didn't seem to be paying attention, which irked her.

"_Land ho!!_" A man shouted loudly, _almost_ drowning out Talia's shouting. He was then promptly hit in the head with a compass.

"Shut up! I'm yelling right now!!" Talia screamed, her rage now directed at the 'land ho' man. Sometimes her anger could be so illogical. "Wait--what did you say?"

The man rubbed his head and picked up the compass. "Uh…land ho." He pointed into the distance where a tiny speck (presumably and island) was slowly becoming visible to a higher degree.

"Oh." Talia seemed either sheepish or contemplative, though it seemed highly unlikely that she was sheepish. She crossed her arms, tapped her cheek, then went to turn the ship toward the speck. After doing so, she returned to where she had been previously standing. "Thank you. Now…where was I…oh yes!" And with that, she began to yell again.

Sarah watched as Asher shook his head and went to challenge Ryan (the card player who happened to win the last match) to another game of cards, then she watched Talia finish scolding the invisible, retrieved her compass, then found someone else doing something wrong (however, she almost _ignored_ the card players, spawning more questions). Jack clapped a hand on her shoulder.

"Well, good luck with the lit gunpowder, love," He said, walking off in the direction of Asher and Ryan. Sarah sighed and went to the edge of the ship, watching the speck get bigger. At least the Death Lily wasn't boring--oh no, far from it.

Another town, another lame excuse for plundering. After Talia swiped a few objects from the nearest pawn shop, while meanwhile, Jack and Sarah took a quick search for anything worth stealing, they group met at the docks and went to get supplies.

"Towns these days," Talia grumbled, sifting through her loot. "there's just nothin' to their names." Sarah, who was casually propping her face in her hand, her elbow resting on her leg, sighed and sat up.

"We should probably head back, aye?" She offered, registering a sluggish response from her partners. They all stood up and headed back to the Death Lily.

On the way, Talia continued to review and Jack watched over her shoulder with forced interest. Sarah, however, was startled to hear her own name called from a little way off.

"Pandora!"

The whole group turned to face a man who was smiling falsely at Sarah. He was tall (not as tall as Ryan, mind you) and had dark blonde hair, darker than Sarah's (but not by much), that was longish and pulled back with a ribbon--he also had a thin mustache. He was dressed a bit pirate-like, but the rest of him didn't quite match with his apparel.

"Oh for the love of haughty, stuck up men who deserve to die a bloody death…" Sarah muttered quietly, staring nearly horrified at the odd man.

"Who's that?" Talia asked, hastily shoving her new possessions into her pockets. Sarah waved distractedly.

"No on. It's no one." She replied quickly. "I'll be right back." She walked briskly over to the man, leaving Talia and Jack with confused looks and many questions.

"Think it's her long lost love?" Talia asked blankly.

"Hope not," Jack replied, barely audible. Talia turned quickly to stare at him, now even more confused as to why he said that.

Sarah approached the man, lowered her voice, and, with all the restraint of a hungry elephant who's spotted food, asked, "_What_ are _you_ doing here!?"

"Come now, Pandora. The Death Lily…the Black Pearl…two well known ships, and you're asking _why_ I'm here." His smile widened a bit and he touched her face. "And to see you, of course." She slapped his hand away.

"You know, it's really too bad that you disappeared when I returned from my 'trek,' because I really would have _loved_ to make it clear to you that I _never_ want to see you again, traitor," She snarled.

"Mm, touchy touchy." He shook his head mockingly. "I knew you'd turn out this way." He glanced behind her, noticing Talia and Jack, who were standing in bewildered silence.

"Did he just touch her face?"

Jack said nothing.

"Oh, and why is my girl tra--"

"_Your_ girl?? What's put it in your head that I'm _your_ girl?? You're mad!"

"--veling with the captains of these two ships?" He ignored her blatant disregard for the fact that he was talking and continued speaking. He clasped his hands behind his back. "Oh! Perhaps you've earned a job with the indestructibly rabid Captain Talia Frost!"

"Did he just call me rabid?"

"I think so." Talia elbowed Jack in the ribs.

"Or maybe…maybe you finally got a job with your _beloved_ Captain Jack Sparrow."

"I'm beloved?"

She elbowed him again, this time causing him to shout in pain.

Sarah lifted one hand and slapped the man, with the back of her hand, as hard as she possibly could. "You disgrace of your mother's womb. There are no words to describe you."

The man stepped very close to Sarah and stared her down (He was several inches taller than her, but she was sort of okay with it, since he was older), his smile fading. "_I'm_ not her _only_ disgrace." The sky was very, very cloudy and it looked as if the rain would be torrential. She didn't understand what he meant by 'not her only disgrace.' She stared into his face, pondering what he meant, when finally she said--

"…" She could say nothing, and so she turned her face away, furiously. To Talia and Jack, it appeared (and was true) that Sarah had a very fiery hate for this stranger.

"What's getting you down, love?"

Sarah's quiet anger flared again. "LOVE!? If you mention that word in a sentence with me EVER AGAIN I'll--I'll--!" She pressed her lips very tightly together, then crossed her arms jerkily. "Get out of here if you want to keep your _good health_ in check."

"Not quite yet, m'dear. I'd like to have a word with your comrades. Once in a life time deal, isn't it?" As he stepped behind her and walked toward Talia and Jack, Sarah jeeringly mouthed the words the man had just said. He first came to Talia.

"Greetings. You must be Talia Frost."

"Miss Frost to you." She paused, rethinking, then added, "Actually, _Captain_ Frost to you."

"Well, captain, it _is_ a pleasure."

"Wait wait, first tell me who you are," She commanded. Sarah had to give her credit. The man was weird, insane, and gentlemanly at the same time, yet she treated him the same as any other…well…person. Sort of.

"Drew, at your service, m'lady." He smiled, bowed, then regained his posture. "When I heard the captain of the Death Lily was I woman, I wasn't sure what to expect, but you…" By now, Sarah had returned to the group and was standing nearby Jack. "you're much more beautiful than I imagined."

"Go make love with a diseased monkey," Talia replied coolly. She obviously wasn't impressed by his speech.

"But, of course, your personality is as I've heard," He finished, that admiring smile still on his face. It didn't seem to bother him that she was a cruel, explosive, vicious, murderess who didn't give a shilling about other people. Usually. …Okay, most of the time. Talia frowned and looked at Drew with a disgusted expression.

Drew then turned to Jack, seemingly, he had enough of Talia. "Mr. Sparrow." He gave Jack a had glare, examining him from head to toe. "I've heard so much about you from Pandora--"

"Aww, and they've heard so little about you! For _good reason_," Sarah tittered, her anger gone, now replaced with blunt sarcasm.

"--Though…it seems you're _far_ less respectable than she described."

"Well, what can I say? I have that effect on women." At this point, both Talia _and_ Sarah elbowed him in the ribs and he doubled over, moaning dramatically and rubbing his sides.

"Hmm. Yes." Drew seemed to look down on Jack as if he wasn't even human. _Knowing Drew, that's exactly what he thinks._ Sarah though, glaring hotly at Drew. Oh how she hated him. "Well, I'd best be going. Pleasure seeing you Pandora, Jack." He moved toward Talia. "And an _extreme_ pleasure seeing _you_, Talia."

She moved backwards, away from him, then replied, "_Captain_ Frost, and don't _you_ forget it." She clearly didn't like him--and who could possibly blame her?

Watching him walk away, Jack glanced at Sarah, who promptly stuck out her tongue at Drew's back and made an incredibly rude noise. "I…take it you don't like him." She turned and folded her arms.

"Tch," She replied. Talia, instead of looking annoyed and somewhat infuriated, like usual, looked sick and like she'd be scarred for life.

"Dear…mother o' God, he _touched_ you!" She exclaimed. "H-how?! Oh…father all _mighty!!_" She quickly regained her cool composure. "Can…I burn off your face? If I don't, the fact that he _touched_ you probably will. I'll make it a…_tiny_ bit less painful. But probably not by much."

Jack spoke up now. "How do you know him?"

Sarah was shifting uncomfortably. "He's…ah…nobody. We used to be friends--then he did something I couldn't forgive." She gave Jack a long look, with some sort of sad, and maybe regretful, emotion that he couldn't recognize, the she turned and started back to the Death Lily. "Let's go."

"Whaaaat??" Jack asked, feeling confused. Just to be mean (as usual), Talia came and, as she passed him, gave him a stare as well, though hers had a more sadistic sort of feel to it. "Women--you'll never understand 'em," He muttered, sighing and following the two females.


	4. Rain Omens

In the several days at sea that Sarah had experienced after the Drew encounter, Talia woke her up ever morning by screaming like a bloody banshee that she needed to get up, however, on the eighth day, Sarah woke up naturally, without the needless screaming of the captain--at the same time as she was usually woken up, but naturally, nonetheless. Wondering what was going on, she exited through her door and went up on deck, reasoning that maybe Talia figured she could get up on her own now--but the captain was nowhere to be seen. The sky was very clear and blue.

Heading back down the stairs, Sarah wondered if…_maybe_, she should check on her. She groaned, imagining opening the door and immediately having her head removed. …_Something could be wrong though…I _guess_ I can check…briefly…_ She felt her stomach tangle. "Right then."

She slowly reached for the handle (which wasn't much of one) and opened the creaky door (it wasn't really creaky--but it wasn't a pleasant sound, either). Sticking her head in, she _immediately_ saw Talia, and the captain was staring right at her. She stood up from where she sat on her bed, screamed something unintelligible, then picked up whatever was closest and hurled it at where Sarah stood. Before she could be hit with the potential weapons, she stepped back, slammed the door shut, and fell backwards, listening to a _huge_ mass of objects pummel the door.

Shaken and jumpy, she headed back on deck, where Asher, Ryan, and Jack were all standing in a small congregation near the bow of the ship. Ryan glanced at her.

"Did you go into her room?" He asked, triggering a wide-eyed nod from the newcomer. He and Asher nodded sagely and gave each other superior glances. "They always do," Ryan said.

When Sarah had finally calmed down, she stood with Jack and listened to the crewmembers' stories of the other members who went in Talia's room. From the way they told the tales, it was almost as if it was some great manhood test to open Talia's door, whether she was inside or not.

At this very moment, Talia happened to appear behind them, glaring like the face of death itself, and the four of them scattered--anything to get away from her. Before Sarah could scatter any farther, however, Talia pointed at her.

"You--wench!" She commanded. Sarah halted, shuddered, then slowly turned around. The captain was obviously quite…upset…about Sarah so much as coming within three feet of her room.

"You went in my room. Why." It wasn't a question, more like a statement, which was really hard to answer.

"Uhhh…you…didn't wake me up…so I went to check on you." Sarah was praying that she didn't sound so stupid Talia would cut her right then and there. Conversely, the red-haired girl made no action to pull out a knife, instead she folded her arms.

"A terrible excuse. For your sins, you will have to be pushed like a child." Sarah felt _very_ confused now.

"Punished?" How could she be punished like a child? What kind of punishment could Talia mean? What would she _not_ be able to do while punished that she couldn't do anyway?

"Yes. Go to your room."

"What?"

"Go to your room."

"B-but--"

"Go to your room."

Talia was staying strangely calm. Sarah supposed she vented all her anger on the door. Scared to say anything for fear of her life, she groaned and trudged back down the stars for the second time that day, and shut herself in her room.

Smiling, pleased, Talia went to stand at the helm of the ship and yell at people. _Ah, the punishment of children. It's the only way people will learn._ Her thoughts were so warped.

"_Land ho!_" The man shouted. Talia tossed her spyglass at him.

"Dem you, do you ever shut _up?_" She said, silently hoping her spyglass didn't break--not that she couldn't just steal the 'land ho' man's. At least then he wouldn't shout that blasted monotonous phrase every five minutes. "…I'm sorry, what did you say?"

The man secretly rolled his eyes and picked up her entirely intact spyglass. "Land ho." He pointed to an almost invisible speck that was _very_ far in the distance. "We'll probably get there…by…tomorrow morning at the rate we're going."

"Are you criticizing the speed of the Death Lily??"

"N-no."

Though she didn't quite believe him, she came and retrieved her spy glass, leaving it at that. _Oh good, another chance to raid, pillage, plunder, and otherwise pilfer me weasely black guts out._ She thought sarcastically. Who was she kidding? Towns didn't have loot nowadays.

Laying on her bed, staring at the ceiling, Sarah pondered the many dealings of her recent life. So far she had seen a man she hated yet didn't, and now was traveling with him through a deal that she had had no part in, came across a man she never _ever_ wanted to see again, was nearly killed around three times by the same person, who just happened to be the captain, and was now condemned to stay in her room for the rest of the day.

What was good about this?

__

Not a while lot, She thought glumly. _Still, it's sort of fun. I guess it's not all bad._

Around the middle of the afternoon, Jack got restless and went down to Sarah's room to ask her a question that had been bothering him all day.

Sarah was startled by the knock at the door. No one was supposed to visit her, were they? Not that Talia had made any rules. What an odd captain. Shouting for the person to come in, she sat up from her horizontal position on the bed.

Jack stepped through the door and _immediately,_ Sarah rolled her eyes.

"Sarah--"

"Pandora."

"--Pandora." He sighed exasperatedly. He didn't understand why she couldn't just use Sarah as her name--it was so much more simple than trying to remember to call her Pandora. "First, let me ask you--are you still angry with me?"

"No. I'm not. I love you, Jack!" She exclaimed, smiling brightly, then she reverted back to her annoyed look and rolled her eyes again.

"You like covering yourself in layers of cold sarcasm and overall meanness, don't you?"

"What's it to you?"

He threw his hands into the air. Ever since he had stranded her on an island ("peer pressure, honestly!"), her attitude toward him had been very distant. Giving up on the subject of 'layers,' he stepped toward a chair in the corner of the room.

"Can I sit down?" She shrugged, her eyes wandering across the room. "Sarah."

"_Pandora_."

"_Pandora_. Could…you just tell me why you're mad? Just so I can make sure I'm on the same track as you."

Sarah turned to face him. "First, because you _left_ me on the island after you found me on your ship--"

"If it makes you feel any better," Jack interrupted, narrowing his eyes in a subtle cringe. "I was marooned on the same island a little later. Honestly."

She stared at him, probably considering a smart retort, then continued. "And _second_, because you just _bargained_ me off at that dem pub!! I'm not something you can barter for at the local shop, Jack! Both you _and_ Talia should know that!"

"…You know, there are good reasons for both." Jack gingerly held up his finger in protest to her complaints. She closed her eyes and gently rested her forehead on her fingertips. She wasn't sure what he was trying to do, and she didn't really care. Many hours of seclusion in a room will do that to you.

Gripping her jacket tightly, she dropped her hand and opened her eyes again. "Oh, I'm sure there's a reason for the island, but not a _good_ one. However--if there's a reason for using me in part of your _negotiation_, I-don't-want-to-hear-it. Just leave, I'm not in the _best_ mood to be talking to you."

"One more thing." He looked anxious, somewhat uncomfortable, and a little put-out. "When…you were on the Black Pearl…did you ever…did we…?" He seemed unsure of what he was trying to say. His heavy eyebrows were highly animating his face and made him look a little comical, but it may have just been the separation from society for the past half-a-day.

She sighed heavily and looked away. "There might have been. But it's gone now, Jack. Please, go away."

Disappointed, he stood and left her in silence, her gaze focused selfishly on the wall opposite the chair he had been previously sitting in. She could hardly believe that she had just had that conversation--usually, she would have slapped him. _Wow, I must be going temporarily senile. How odd._ Still, something was pulling at her chest as she watched Jack leave out of the corner of her eye, shutting the door quietly behind him.

"I know why you want her."

Talia startled him almost right away as he exited the room. He stepped back, and clutched his heart, gasping. Her glare was directly in his eyes, and it scared him more than her startling him. Crossing her arms, she tilted her head to one side. "Holy!--d-did you need something, Talia?"

"Captain Frost."

He sighed. He just couldn't seem to get anyone's name right today. How irritating. He hooked his thumbs in his sash and frowned at the woman in front of him.

"I know why you want her on your ship."

"Y-you what?"

"You must have a hearing impairment. I've said this twice already. I-know-why-you-want-to-have-Sarah-on-the-Black-Pearl." After a short silence, she continued. "I-K-N-O-W-W-H-Y-Y-O-U-W-A--"

"Alright, alright, I heard you first time."

"No you didn't."

"…"

Conversations with Talia were always so invigorating.

"Come with me. Now," She said firmly. He couldn't have gotten away if he tried, so he rolled his eyes and followed her into someone's room. Yes, the person _was_ in their room, but Talia just picked them up by the collar and threw them out.

"So…why do I want Sarah on me ship?"

"Because…" She began, seating herself on the bed. "…you're in love with her, aren't you?"

"What??" Jack fell off of the chair he was sitting on. "I-I'm not in _love_ with her!"

"Yes, you are."

"No, I'm not!"

"Yes, you are."

"Are not!"

"Are too."

"Are not!"

"Are too."

"Are not!"

"Are too, and you _know_ it."

There was an awkward silence, then Talia smacked Jack on the side of the head. "Say something!" She cried, a tiny hint of fury echoing in her voice. He rubbed his head and managed to crawl back onto his chair, muttering.

"Uhhh…I tell you, that's not why I want her on my ship." He refused to look at her--she was scary when she was insistent on something, and she was certainly insistent on this.

"Okay, if that's not the reason, what is?"

"I don't have to tell you."

"Yes, you do."

"No, I don't."

"Yes, you do."

"Do not."

"Do too."

"Do not."

"Do too."

"Do not."

"Do too."

"Do not."

"Do too times infinity."

"What are we, children?"

"Maybe _you_ are." Talia smirked. Jack almost fell off his chair again from frustration. "Look, see, you don't _have_ any other reason, you just don't want to admit that you're in love with her."

"For good reason! Oh--" He slapped one hand over his mouth, realizing with hateful truth that he had just let something VERY secret slip to her. She looked quite triumphant. "f-for…good reason…I won't admit it, because I'm not in love with her, so I shouldn't admit it. It…it's not true." He crossed his arms and made a sort of 'hah, I win' look appear on his face.

"This is pointless, just admit it!"

"No!"

"Yes!

"No!"

"Yes!"

"No!"

"Yes!"

"No!

"Can we _please_ stop doing this?" The both agreed, the constant bickering back and forth of the same phrases were getting incredibly irritating. "I'm tired of arguing today. Tomorrow, again, perhaps, but no more today. I _will_ get you to admit it, Jack Sparrow, or my name is Alouicious. And it's not." She stood and left the room, picking up the unconscious man that she had thrown out of the room a few minutes ago and throwing him back into the room. Jack also stood and left the room, deciding to ponder as Sarah did.

So Talia thought he was in love with Sarah. _Curses, I'll have to get her off my trail. If she were to tell Sarah what she asked me about…_ He shuddered. He wished he would not speak so involuntarily, like when they had met Drew and just a few minutes ago when he _almost_ told the captain. What horrid luck. _Not that I indeed _am_ in love with her. Oh no, I couldn't be. Which is why I _was_ telling the truth when I said I wasn't. Yeah._

Not that I mind lying. He couldn't quite decide what he was trying to tell himself, so he gave up and went up on deck, where Talia was watching him with a smug expression. As he passed her, she mouthed the words, 'I know you love her.' In reply, he mouthed, 'Maybe if pigs could fly."

This would be a never ending battle, he was sure.

The next morning, Talia woke Sarah up with the usual screaming--a good sign. Also, as if to show that her punishment was finished, she left the door open. This also could have been embarrassing depending on the condition of the room, but instead it was just a good thing.

The island was a great deal closer now, in fact, so close that in an hour or so, they would probably be docked there. She noticed this as she emerged from below deck. The sky was very gray and cloudy, too. Wandering over to the side of the ship, she crossed her arms and leaned on the edge, watching the sky.

__

It's cloudy. Probably important today. She thought, blue eyes reflecting the eternal steel abyss. She was so absorbed in the sky, she hardly noticed the footsteps behind her. Jack had come aboard the Death Lily again and had noticed, with baffled curiosity, the blonde standing near the edge staring into nothing.

"Sarah?"

"…What?" She was distracted, so she didn't correct him. He walked up next to her and began to wave his hand in front of her catatonic face. She broke out of her funk and looked at him. "Oh, g'morning Jack." He raised his eyebrows.

"Are…you dead this fine day?"

"What…d'you mean?"

"Uhh…you're sort of spacing off. And you're not yelling at me for being in your bubble space." She gave him a blank stare, at first, then she shook her head and sighed.

"Oh, I, uh…I'm just looking at the sky," She replied. "Something important's going to happen."

"How do you know?"

"The sky. It's cloudy." He gave her a look of perplexity, and she smiled a little. "I should probably explain, aye? Right, well, you see…whenever something important happens to me, the sky is always cloudy, and whenever something bad happens, it rains. It's cloudy today, so I suspect something important will happen."

"That's a new one." Jack grinned.

It seemed odd that the two of them were having a peaceful conversation, since Sarah was still mad at him, and Jack had, just yesterday, had that strange, strange conversation with Talia. Then again, sometimes fate cannot explain itself and things get out of balance. For instance, perhaps, somewhere in the world, two best friends suddenly become furious with each other for no apparent reason--destiny has to balance again, so it makes two people who are typically negative to each other, such as Miss Warren and Mr. Sparrow, have a short conversation that has nothing to do with their hate and/or difficulty communicating.

Or maybe Sarah's pondering finally drove her (and probably the author) insane. Whatever the case, it was a nice talk.

Talia, noticing this from the opposite side of the ship, approached them and, a little annoyed that Sarah wasn't doing something productive, asked,

"Having a nice time? What are you two talking so merrily about?"

Jack turned to her, flashing a crazy grin, and replied, "Rain omens."

"Well, that sounds perfectly stimulating, it does. But we're going to be docking in an hour or so and I'd appreciate it, Mr. Sparrow, if ye'd return to your own ship and leave the wench alone." Sarah frowned indignantly. She had a feeling Talia would never call her anything except 'wench.' With an annoyed sigh, she turned and leaned on the edge again. _What could possibly happen that's important today…?_

Jack gave Talia a bow that looked obedient and, at the same time, cynical.

"Oooh, this town looks _real_ promising." Sarah commented offhandedly as Talia stepped next to her.

"Doesn't it? At least that malignant twit, Drew, won't be there this time." Talia was actually _talking_ to Sarah. This alone was cause enough for attention. The captain looked over at the other woman. "I'm really quite surprised your cheek hasn't incinerated itself yet." Sarah shook her head, laughing.

No, the Death Lily wasn't as bad as it seemed.


	5. Savvy?

Talia was correct--in a little over an hour, they arrived at the port of the strange little island that turned out, to the captain's utter dismay and simultaneous suspect, to have no plunder whatsoever. After returning to the ship for a few minutes, she poked Asher in the arm and told him to watch the crew for her while she was gone. Obviously, he obliged, then she headed back into the town to sit in the tavern and drink her _own_ rum (Why trust bartenders that you don't know and could poison you? Talia was incredibly paranoid sometimes--but mostly just violent).

Just as she had settled into her seat, she heard an oddly familiar voice, who's owner she couldn't quite place. As she looked up from the surface of the table, she saw 'that malignant twit, Drew.' She blinked, at first thinking that perhaps the person just looked stunningly like that crazy man, but the more she looked at him, the more she realized that he looked identical, and it was unlikely that he had an identical twin, or something. Fortunately, she hadn't heard his voice talking to _her_--he had been talking to someone else, so she sunk her head lower to the table and watched him, slowly drinking her _own_ rum (Paranoid today, aren't we?).

The sinking didn't help. Soon, he noticed her and gleefully smiled, almost bounding over to her in an embarrassing way. She hit the table with her forehead, suddenly too tired to hold up her head.

"Talia!"

Drew was greeted with Talia spitting out her rum in his face. Most people would have been disgusted at this, but Drew just sort of smiled and ignored it. Her jaw dropped and she stared at him in complete and total disbelief.

"What a pleasant coincidence, seeing you here!"

"Yeah…_real_ pleasant."

He looked around for a moment, then sat down next to her, looking content. "So, I think this is a perfect time for us to get to know each other better, don't you think?" She couldn't believe her ears. Who did this guy think he was? Who did he think _she_ was?? She was beginning to understand why Sarah hated him with such a focused passion.

"Why, yes, I _do_ think this is a perfect time for us to get to know each other. You're sitting in this bar, at this table, and I'm leaving." She stood up and moved toward the door. What point was there in talking to a man who had no clue what he was getting himself into? He watched her for several seconds, then stood up and went after her.

"Talia--"

"Captain Frost."

"Why can't I call you Talia?"

"Because I said so, and that had _better_ be a good enough answer for you, twerp." She turned to walk away, but the small protesting of her newly acquired admirer made her reluctantly turn around.

"Twerp is such a harsh word. I assure you, I am no twerp." She could do nothing but stare at him.

"Why yes, it is a harsh ward. And that's precisely why I'm using it." She brushed a few stray strands of hair out of her face in an agitated fashion. "Leave me alone."

She turned and began walking toward the docks, thankful that her painfully weird conversations was finally over. Unfortunately, she had only walked two or three steps before--

"You look beautiful today, Talia." She spun to her left; Drew was standing right next to her, smiling. She frowned, a little baffled. "Not that you don't look beautiful everyday, but you look especially beautiful today."

She dropped her hands on his shoulders, staring at him intently. "Drew, if someone told you to go away, far, far away, and never come back, what would you say? Tell me this."

"Mm, I'd ask why," He replied calmly. He seemed to be happy about Talia's hands on his shoulders.

"And if they told you it was because you were an, aptly named, 'malignant twit,' who has no idea what he's getting himself into and that it's incredibly aggravating that you follow them around, _then_ what would you say?"

"Well, I'd probably keep following them until they gave me a better reason than insults."

"That's where you're wrong, my friends. When someone tells you to _go away_, you need to _go away_. I'm no ethics teacher, I'm a pirate, but at least I know this fact. Take heed." She hoped he wouldn't follow her again. She started to walk away but it didn't take long for him to pop back up next to her.

"Why don't you want to talk to me?"

She was getting frustrated. "This is what I mean! When someone tells you to go away, _go away_!!"

"Why?"

"To put it _exactly_ as I said it, because you're an, aptly named, 'malignant twit,' who has no idea what he's getting himself into and it's incredibly aggravating that you follow me around! Don't you get it? I travel _alone_. All I have is me crew and me ship, and I'm _happy_ with that. The only time I ever travel _with_ someone is if I've made a deal, and even if you _are_ a pirate, and, you do indeed say you are, aye?"

"Yes."

"Well, even if you _are_ a pirate, I'm already traveling with Jack Sparrow, so just back off and get away from me."

Dreading what would happen soon after she began to walk, she sighed and put one food after another for a maximum of five seconds before Drew appeared again.

"You know you aren't making much sense, right?"

"DREW! If I stuck a fork in your eye, then pulled the fork out again, do you think the eye would come with it??" She was now no longer frustrated, just getting angrier by the minute. He didn't seem to understand just what kind of danger he was getting into. Drew, meanwhile, was thinking somewhat intently on her question.

"Hmm…I don't know, I've never tried it."

Talia grinned sadistically. "Let's find out."

"Let's not, actually. I think that'd be quite painful." Drew replied, his expression still horridly innocent--he didn't have any idea that she hated him now, honestly.

Sighing again, Talia slapped her own face. "Do you know what subtle means?" She asked, watching as his face changed from thoughtfully concerned to needlessly happy.

"Yes, I do! But I don't know how to explain it."

"Then take this subtle hint; go soak your head."

As she walked away for the fourth time, she heard him yell, "I don't' get it!!" She laughed and thanked God that she had finally lost him. Seven seconds later--

"Talia, yo--"

"GO AWAY!! I HAVE WALKED AWAY FROM YOU _FOUR TIMES_ ALREADY!!" She was now getting dangerously close to exploding. What could _possibly_ be wrong with this insanely obsessive and stalking fool? "Get out of my box! Out! Out of my box!!" She traced a box around her feet and pointed at it violently--Drew, consequently, had his toes inside her 'box.' He stepped back about a foot and looked at her expectantly.

"No, no, no, my box is the whole island! The whole thing! Get out of my _BOX_!! GO! Go in the water, drown, get eaten by sharks, I-do-not-care. GETOUTOFMYBOX!!"

Drew stared blankly for a second or two, then tilted his head and raised an eyebrow. "You're upset today, aren't you?"

"AUGH!!" She threw her hands into the air, letting them fall and slap at her sides. She turned promptly and started to walk at a faster pace than usual. She wanted _very badly_ to get away from him. _Very badly_.

"Talia, is there anything _I_ can do?"

He was there again. At her right this time. She slowly turned, nerves snapping. She was had been pushed too far past the line to be calmed down--Drew really should have known better than to awaken her dangerous and ridiculously short temper, but he didn't, so now Talia was ready to self-destruct.

"Drew."

"Yes?"

She bared her teeth, grabbed Drew's collar, and dragged him swiftly into an almost completely empty alley (there were a few boxes here and there) between two buildings. She hoisted him off the ground and against the wall of one of the buildings. Instead of loud anger, her voice was full of somewhat quiet and intense fury that sometimes flared.

"Listen here, you macabre, enigmatic, despicable, wretched, scary man! I-want-you-to GOAWAY!! I can't _count_ how many times in the last hour I've said that! Leave! Now!! You're _creepy_!! Creepy, creepy, creepy! I hope that this is sinking through your impenetrable skull! Creepy and stalking don't match! This is a very small and important fact, and I don't want you to EVER FORGET IT!! EVER! And I never want to see you _ever, ever, ever, ever, EVER_ again!!"

"That seems to be a popular trend with me."

"I don't care! I don't care if licking _toes_ is a popular trend with you! I don't care if admonishing stray _goats_ is a popular trend with you! I just want you to leave me alone! Stop…stalking me! When I walked away the _first_ time you should have taken the hint, but _noooo_, you have to follow me, driving me to the point of insanity!! I want to you stop _popping up_ in my life! Pop _out_ of my life, please!"

"You know, you have a very short temper."

"_I don't care if I have a short temper!!!_ I can _live_ with my _short temper!_ My _crew_ lives with my short temper, _strangers_ live with my short temper! In fact, you're the only one who _doesn't_ live with my short temper! So you know what--you'll _die_ with my short temper!!"

With little dramatic flair and more channeled rage, she threw him onto the ground, pulled out a knife, and pointed it directly at his face from where she stood at his feet.

"So you ponder me warning, Drew, because if ye like your fingers, and I know ye do, ye'll be upset to wake up one morning without them."

She turned and walked to the end of the alley, to where she entered in the first place, then quickly turned and hurled the knife at Drew--it wedged itself into the ground just a hair away from his face, though it did graze his ear. She narrowed her eyes cruelly.

"And next time, I won't miss."

And with that, she turned on her heel and stomped back toward the Death Lily.

Drew, wide-eyed and breathless, as well as half deaf from the furious red-head's speech, slowly inched his head away from the knife and sat up. He turned from where he sat and pulled the dagger out of the dirt. Smiling after several second of shock, he pocketed the blade carefully and safely, then he stood and went on his way.

As all of this chaos happened, Sarah and the rest of the crew were back at the Death Lily, performing menial tasks. At the moment, Sarah was unpacking the bag she had meant to unpack at least a month ago.

While she scurried about her less-than-spacious quarters, she faintly heard someone enter her room.

"Sarah?" Jack asked, watching her stuff things away.

"See those things there?" She pointed to her bed, where there was a pile of possessions near her bag. He acknowledged that he saw the stuff. "Don't touch it."

Now, it was awkward for Jack, standing in the room, looking around blankly, while Sarah unpacked her bag. He thought about offering to help, but he knew that she would either reject him, finish just as he said it, or not reply at all. Finally, after the silence had gone on for a painfully long time, spoke.

"Have you ever kissed someone before?"

She slammed her hands on the box she had just finished emptying her sack into. Slowly turned around, she replied, "Uhh…what brought _this_ up?"

"I'm just making conversation. It's not like you were making an effort." He shrugged. "So? Have you?"

"I don't have to answer that!"

"Oh, spoil sport. Just answer the question!"

"No!"

"Yes!"

"No!"

"Yes!"

"No!"

"Ye--can we stop? I did this with Talia and it lasted around two minutes." Sarah went quiet, rolling her eyes and dusting off her hands with a touch of sarcasm. "So, just…answer the question. Please?" He grinned.

"Fine, fine." She held up her hands in protest. "No, I haven't."

"Ever wanted to?"

"Jack!"

"Well?"

"…Y-yes."

It was like an interrogation, which mad her feel uncomfortable--as if she wasn't already uncomfortable enough talking about this subject with Jack. Since her gut was telling her that he still had questions, she sat down on her bed and propped herself up with her elbows.

"Who?"

"Uncalled for. I veto your question." She replied, laughing a little. She _really_ didn't want to tell him that. _That_ wasn't his business.

"Oh! It's Mr. Gibbs, isn't it??" He exclaimed.

"WHAT!?" She cried, sitting rigid. "It's not Mr. _Gibbs!!_"

He grinned at her jokingly. "Okay, okay." He demoted his gaze from a grin to a smile. Seeming a reluctant to sit in the chair in the corner of the room, he stood near the door and with most of his weight on one foot. "Ever pretended?"

"Veto."

"Can't. Ye can only veto 'who' questions."

"Too bad." She crossed her arms and stuck out her tongue at him. "My turn. What about you? Have _you_ ever kissed anybody?"

"Mm…not that I can recall. Maybe a whore or something…somewhere…" He took a random, short moment to take a look at the small hole that could be considered a window--but not really. It was still pretty cloudy out, but it didn't really look like rain. Not yet, at least.

"Wanted to?"

He paused. "…Yes." It was more of a confirmed sound, unlike Sarah's answer, which had sounded unsure. It hadn't been, but she hadn't wanted to say it, nonetheless.

"Who?"

"…I…think I'll veto."

"Pretended?"

"Yes, actually."

"Aaand who?"

"A definite…veto."

Sarah smiled. Jack smiled. They smiled and there was a reverent moment of peace and void of noise. Then she leaned back on her elbows and awaited Jack's next comment.

"My turn again. Of the person you _want_ to kiss, do I know them?"

She was about to answer when she was abruptly hit in the stomach by her logical (and angry) side of her brain. Whether she was bored, or just plain lonely, she suddenly wasn't sure why she was _calmly_ having this conversation with Jack.

She stood and, facing Jack, who looked terribly startled, began speaking. "You know, I just realized how incredibly illogical this is. Why would I talk to you about kissing people? That's crazy! I have no reason, _you_ have no reason, a-and _what_ gives you the right to ask me that?? What? And where did 'Mr. Gibbs' come from? Eh?? That was pretty strange!"

As she ranted on and on about the pointlessness of the previous questioning, Jack felt his thoughts move from weirdly distressed about her standing so unexpectedly to slowly wandering and his eyes began to wander, as well. _She's really set on describing this in detail._ He thought dumbly.

Finally, after around six minutes of blathering on her end, Jack sighed, stepped forward, close to Sarah, and clapped his hands on her shoulders.

"Sarah," He started. She stopped and stared at him, more surprised that he was suddenly standing so close to her, and she didn't even notice him come. "Shut up."

In a split second, it seemed, Jack leaned down and kissed Sarah, and all she could hear was the sound of silence. At very first, she wanted badly to scream, kick, even thrash in a painful manner, but that was only at first, then she gradually calmed down and closed her eyes. It started to rain lightly, drumming on the small window-thing.

But the moment didn't last long--nothing did. The creaking of the door broke the heavy stillness. It rapidly seemed important that she need to open her eyes, but she didn't--instead, she heard--

"Oh…my…sweet savior."

This was the point where Sarah's eyes bolted open and she broke away from Jack. In the doorway, stunned and smiling amusedly, was Talia. She slowly moved her hands so they rested on her hips.

Sarah's head whipped around so she could look at Jack, who was looking a little dazed, though he wasn't dazed at all. She seized him by the shirt and pulled him closer to her face.

"If I catch you so much as _thinking_ about what just happened, I will _personally_ relieve you of your kneecaps, ribcage, and jaw, _savvy!?_" He nodded tensely, then she released him a little forcefully and stormed out of the room.

Talia's entertained smile turned into a triumphant smirk. "Well, if _that_ didn't prove you're in love with her, I don't think _anything_ will." Jack sighed, watching Talia leave, please (and secretly irritated that a crew member on the Death Lily would have such relations with a man like Jack.).

As she stalked past the doors of rooms below deck, in eventuality, finding an empty one and taking a seat, Sarah began to viciously make an almost nonsensical oath, one that, if heard, would probably only make sense to her and her alone. _Never, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever again, NEVER! Not again, there's no way I'll put up with it again, no way, never_ ever!_ I'd rather die; I will die! I can't get my hopes up like that again, not for the pain, never evereverevereverever_ evereverevereverever!!_ NEVER!!_

She would never let it happened again, but she hoped she wouldn't have to worry about it. After all, she _couldn't_ be in love with Jack again--

Could she?


	6. Degradation

The next week was sort of rough. For Jack, that is. For the first two days, Sarah avoided Jack at every possible interval. After that, she began speaking with him again, but whenever he brought up 'the horrible thing' (Sarah's fond nickname for what Jack did after telling her to 'shut up'), she either changed the subject with enthusiasm or fell silent…with very _little_ enthusiasm. Talia, on the other hand, would hardly leave him alone, but for--no, wait, it was pretty much the same reason. She seized every opportunity she got to tell Jack that she knew he was in love with Sarah, which got incredibly repetitive and irksome. Not that she wasn't doing this before, but it seemed that, after she had walked in on Sarah and Jack that fateful day, she had taken the reminders up a notch in the annoying factor.

She also wouldn't quit talking about just _how much_ she hated Drew. It was like he haunted her, day and night--and he probably did. No matter how grating this complaining was, no one could disagree with her, especially Sarah, who's ears, unfortunately, took the brunt of the carping.

__

So…the rain had been right after all. Sarah thought on Tuesday morning, leaning in her usual spot at the edge of the ship--it was a blank, sunny day with several fluffy clouds that drifted about lazily. It was already shaping up to be an uneventful day. She closed her eyes and listened to the sea and the wind soothing her ears, raw from Talia's whining.

Talia was standing at the helm--again--shielding her eyes from the sun, which seemed to be purposely poking at her irises, probably amusing itself with her pain. This thought bothered her immensely. She had, since the early morning, taken off her white jacket and was dressed in a red shirt with gold clasps--the one she always wore under the jacket. It was quite warm out. _Dem sun. I can't wait till it…goes…out. Yes, that's the phrase I'm looking for._

Sighing blankly, she looked around anxiously for a someone to yell at. To her disbelief and regret, as well as dismay, everyone came across as doing their jobs correctly.

"How boring," She mumbled.

And if that wasn't bad enough, they hadn't seen an island yet, which meant there was currently nothing to do. Rather, there _was_, but since there was nothing _else_ of even remote interest, everyone had finished early. If that wasn't depressing, nothing was.

Talia pulled out her spyglass and looked around, hoping for a glimpse of something, anything, that would make the sea less dull. As if summoned, something on the horizon caught her eye--also, just as it did, she heard--

"Land h--" He was, once again, cut off by Talia, but this time, she came over herself and seized him by the head.

"Stop!" She said as he wrestled to get out of her headlock. "Asher, turn the ship toward that teensy-weensy speck over there, if you will." She pointed, with her free hand, to a point to the right somewhere. Asher nodded and went to do as she said. Talia released the 'land ho' man, who fell to the ground, rubbing his abused neck.

"You need a new job…whoever you are."

"Justin, Captain."

"Right, Justin." _Well, that's _one_ less invisible…_ "In any case, you need a new job."

"You gave me this one, Captain."

"…Are you contradicting me?"

"…N-no!"

"Well then, I'll have a new job for you soon. Meanwhile…" She cringed and shied away from him. "…carry on, I suppose." She clearly didn't want to tell him to do his job.

Sarah watched this with little to no interest, only happy that they would soon be at a town, where something would actually _happen_. It was just so insufferably _boring_.

"Hello Sarah."

"Hello Jack." She turned, not at all surprised to see that he was so suddenly standing next to her. "Explain to me something--how exactly do you get on the Death Lily every day?"

"Uhh…it's really hard to explain, actually," He replied, scratching his head and looking skyward, his beaded hair making small and barely audible tinkling noises as it shifted in the balmy breeze.

"Have you given up on asking about 'the horrible thing?'"

"…Yeah."

"Okay, good."

There was a long silence, common to the two of them, then Jack looked up again, searching the sky for something unseen. "…It's sunny today. That means nothing, right?" Sarah nodded, smiling a little. She wasn't as angry anymore, though she didn't like to admit it.

"You're catching on."

"It's difficult not to."

"True." She looked up, as well, and watched a single cloud float by, looking lonely and thin. She wordlessly sympathized with the orphan cloud, then drew her sapphire eyes away from the sky and gazed at her fingers. "It rained yesterday."

Jack nodded. "I saw." He licked his lips in a sort of reflex, then crossed his arms. "It happened right before Talia came in, am I correct?"

"Yeah."

Another awkward hush, then Jack stretched his arms above his head and grinned. "I heard we'll be at another town soon. I swear, I couldn't be happier. There is nothing to _do!!_"

"So what will you be doing when we arrive? Making a beeline for the nearest tavern?"

"As a matter of fact…"

"Oh, look, you two are at it again. Don't you have work or something on your _own_ cursed ship??" Talia interrupted, casting her lethal glare on the duo near the side of the ship. Jack merely shrugged in response to her question.

"Probably." He held up his hands in a clueless gesture. "Believe it or not, this ship is more eventful than me own, love." Talia reached out and slapped him promptly.

"Don't call me love." She said curtly, turning and walking away. It may have been a little harsh, if not cruel, even, but Sarah couldn't help but laugh. Perhaps it was just the severe tedium that surrounded the ship, and that was probably the reason, but maybe it just was…well, a little funny.

Rubbing his cheek, which was sore and red, Jack looked over at Sarah. "Oh, shut up."

"That one, you did _not_ deserve." She laughed a little harder, which, consequently, made Jack smile exasperatedly. _This is what I get for traveling with two hot-headed women who are prone to letting their hands get out of…hand._ He paused in his train of thought, then finished. _I need rum._

- - - - -

Several lackluster hours later, the Death Lily and the Black Pearl arrived at the town, which, to no one's surprise, looked exactly like every other town in the Caribbean--just about. After, once again, scouting out plunder, Talia and Sarah returned to the ship--Jack, alternatively, went directly to the tavern and stayed there for at least two hours, if not longer.

The excitement of the crew was…interesting. More pointless than anything else--it was just another town--but they seemed gaga over it anyway. Mind-numbing boredom will do that to a person, it will.

When Jack finally returned from his rum excursion, he was quite drunk, though it wasn't terribly different from his normal behavior--he just continually forgot what word he meant to say. Heading below deck (which seemed to be a popular spot), and into an room occupied by Sarah and Talia, who were sitting around doing nothing, he plopped down into a chair and sat quietly for a moment or two. Then a thought came to him.

"You two are such lovely ladies," He grinned and sat up. The two he was referring to were staring boredly in to nothing. At this statement, Sarah crossed her arms and annoyedly rolled her eyes, and Talia fingered her leg mounted knife. "Why don't you wear dresses? Talia?"

Talia looked up at him and raised her eyebrows to a point that they almost disappeared beneath her bandana. "…You kidding?" He shook his head, jingling the many beads and metal pieces adhered to his hair. "Dresses are useless. They restrict movement and make a woman look foolish. Why wear bolts and bolts of brightly colored cloth when you can just as easily wear a blouse and a simple pair of pants?" She pulled out a knife and examined it casually. "It's pointless."

"And you, Sarah? What's your excuse?"

"I agree with Talia. You can do so much more in pants. Dresses are just silly--instruments to show off a woman's beauty. No one's really looking." She was tugging blankly at a loose piece of string coming from her chair. A small portion of the fabric started to unravel.

"Okay…even though I know the answer, what would you two say to wearing one? Just this once, and not for too long, savvy? I already have two." He glanced at Talia, who re-sheathed her knife.

"_Wear_ one?? Are you _daft?_ Don't you listen??" She stared at him as if he was crazy, and it probably wasn't an outrageous claim, either.

"What put it in your head, Jack? You must be insane to think _either_ of us would wear a bloody _dress_." Sarah looked at Talia, who nodded in hearty agreement.

"Won't even consider! It's foolish--dresses are a waste of time! They're insulting and cliché."

"Not to mention stereotypical," Sarah added.

Jack tried his best to look pleading. "Just this once? I promise you won't have to for long." Oh. He was drunk. At least it wasn't effecting him in an unbearably prominent way.

The women glared. "No!" Talia said loudly. "It would be highly degrading!! No dresses, end of conversation." She finished this sentence, accentuating it with a curt nod.

- - - - -

"This is degrading," Talia moaned.

Talia and Sarah stood in the center of the wood-lined room, clad entirely in long, elegant, English-styled dresses. Talia's was a deep red, covered with a white, jacket-like garment that was made to show the red skirt beneath it. The sleeves had no white cover and came down to several inches above her elbows. They bunched up near the bottom and were tied with a white ribbon. The skirt was folded, giving the illusion of many different shades of crimson sewn into the dress. Around her waist was a string of pearls that looked nicely proper. Her hair was braided loosely, but neatly, down her back, tied with another string of pearls (Jack's choice).

Sarah, on the other hand, was dressed in a grayish-blue dress that barely came over her shoulders at the top. It was laced down the middle and the sleeves came to below her elbows, bunched similarly to Talia's. The skirt portion had three layers--the top one, which was grayish-blue, like the top, the second, which was a lighter, warmer shade of the grayish-blue, and the main one, which was a light, creamish color, pleated and gathered, once again, in a way near to Talia's. Her hair was down, for once, and tied with a blue ribbon (also Jack's choice).

Jack clapped. "Oh, wonderful!"

"Shut up, _Jack_." Sarah snapped. Both of them were irritated, and neither of them were exactly sure of how they had gotten into this mess in the first place, neither were they sure of how they got into the dresses.

"Well, now that you're all dressed up, so to speak, we can get going." Jack grinned, gold teeth glinting in the low lighting.

Talia stared dumbly for a moment, Sarah pulled annoyedly at her sleeve, then both were hit with the realization of that he had just said to them. They both advanced on him.

"_What!?_" They yelled in unison. "Go where?? What do you mean!?"

Jack laughed a little nervously. "Ah yes, I suppose I forgot to mention…there's…a dance tonight…ye see…"

Talia's ebony eyes glimmered with fire, and she bared her teeth angrily. "Oh, cleverly overlooked that detail, did ye now, Jack?" She pulled a knife out of thin air, it seemed, and pointed the tip at Jack, who was still giggling anxiously. Sarah gave him a cold death glare, her face now stormy.

"Eh heh heh…oh, come on…it's just one night, alright?? I swear, on my very honor, that I'll never ask it of ye again." He clasped his hands and held them up willingly in front of the two fuming women. "Please?"

Talia glanced at Sarah, who was already looking at her partner in fury, and frowned. "What do ye think? …Why am I asking you?" Sarah shrugged.

"I dunno. I suppose…we could….if…"

"IT WAS ONLY THIS ONCE!!!" Both of them happened to say that to him at the same time, in the same tone, volume, and speed. It was quite a sight, quite an experience. In fact, such an experience, Jack nearly fell over from the shock.

So the two reluctantly backed down and retreated into their own rooms to brood and glare at the wall with growing hatred that would eventually subside and disappear--until the next time they were angered. This was a common happening.

During the period of time before they left for the dance, two things happened, one to Talia, and one to Sarah. To Talia, Asher happened to knock on her door while she was staring at the ceiling unhappily. She sat up.

"Uhh--who is it?"

"Asher."

"…Do _not_ come in!" She shouted, eyes now wide. Dresses were bad enough--crew members plus Talia in a dress was worse. She quickly threw a blanket over her head and sat down, cross-legged (very difficult in a dress such as hers) on her bed. "Okay, _now_ you can come in."

He entered and immediately frowned. "Captain? Talia? What are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing, Asher? I'm hiding. Under a blanket," She replied cynically. He said nothing, merely looked around, shrugging while she couldn't see him.

"Well, okay. Uhh, just wanted to inform you that there's some guy staring at the ship."

"Wusse look like?"

"He's uhh…sorta tall…he looks a little like a pirate, I guess. What should we do? We're at a bit of a loss up there. What are you doing down here, anyway?"

"One question at a time, my friend. First off, ignore him. Second, none of your business. But I _would_ like you to do something for me."

He stared at the shapeless, blanket covered lump on the bed and raised an eyebrow. It was difficult taking orders from a formless mass. "Oookay."

"When I tell you, preoccupy EVERY CREW MEMBER. This is important. EVERY CREW MEMBER. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"Good. Now…leave."

With a lingering confused look, Asher left the room, shrugging. Pulling her head out from under the sheet, Talia looked around, then collapsed backwards on her bed again. "Cursed dress. I knew this would be bad," She muttered, cursing the ceiling, as if it was the cause of all of her problems--which it most definitely wasn't.

To Sarah, this is what happened--

As she sat in her room, pretty much doing the same thing as Talia, she, too, heard a knock at the door. Not particularly caring who it was--even though she figured it was Jack, since he wasn't the only one who ever came to her room--she shouted for them to come in. She didn't sit up.

"Why, hello Jack. What an opposite of surprise to see you here. In my room. Again." She was feeling a little dry toward him again, and he could clearly see it.

"'Ello. Um, could you…sit up and actually look at me for a second?" He had his hands behind his back, one foot tapping the floor in a monotonous manner. Sarah rolled her eyes and sat up slowly, zombie-like. "Okay, good." He approached her.

"You can sit, if you want." Sarah looked up at him and nodded her head toward the spot next to her. Jack stared at her with a puzzled sort of expression, then he sat down. "So. What brings you to my humble abode? Or rather, my humble…box."

He shrugged one shoulder. "Uh. I know you don't want to go to the thing. The, uh, the bell…the bar…the…what was it called?" He paused and looked at her, and she informed him that it was called a ball. He didn't feel (or sometimes act) as drunk as he really was. "Right. Ball. Anyway, I know you don't want to go…but I sorta got you this thing. It has a name. I'll think of it."

He brought his hands out from behind his back and showed her the object he had brought along.

"Necklace. That's what it's called." He finished. In his hands was a necklace. It was on a blue ribbon, with a blue stone, possibly a sapphire--she couldn't tell. Really, she couldn't. She wasn't a jeweler, after all--in the center surrounded by three pearl-things on each side. She let her jaw slack for a moment.

"…Jack…?" She said quietly, almost a whisper, but not quite. He looked sort of uncomfortable and he kept on fidgeting. She slowly reached out and touched it. "Are you serious? You got me this?"

"Uh, yeah. Sort of. I don't know, some guy left it laying around, and, well, I couldn't resist, mate, I thought of you." He raised one corner of his mouth in a half-hearted smile. She did the same, only her smile stayed, and she looked up from the necklace, into his face.

"Thanks."

"Yeah. You're welcome."

It was hard to be angry with him.

He stood up after setting the necklace into her hands, and moved toward the door. He didn't look uncomfortable anymore, just relieved. "I'd better go get ready. I'm going to the…the….ball, right…the ball, too, you know." He nodded, as if assuring himself of what he was saying, then he left the room, shutting the door behind him.

Sarah tied the necklace on, then collapsed backwards onto her bed. "Cursed dress. Cursed Jack. Cursed luck," She muttered. "Why can't I stay mad at him? That's not fair!" She sighed. She couldn't wait until this night was over, and she knew the feeling was mutual with Talia.

When the time was ripe, so to speak, the trio headed toward the stairs leading up on deck. Talia shouted to Asher, who gathered the short attention spans of the invisibles so that the three of them could pass in secret. Jack led them through the town stealthily, since he was the only one who knew where the dance was being held. As they arrived at the hall where many people in fancy outfits were entering through the large doors, laughing, Sarah, Talia, and Jack stood in silence and stared at the doors.

"Geronimo." Jack said, hoping Talia, who was closest to him, wouldn't slap him. Instead, she sighed wearily, if not a little acidly toward him, then they all moved toward the door.

Skirts swishing, Talia and Sarah entered the large "ballroom" following Jack, who, they just appeared to realize, looked somewhat ridiculous--dressed as a gentleman, yet still wearing his hat. Neither of the women wished to be caught, being pirates, after all, and so Sarah elbowed Jack very hard in the ribs. Frowning disappointedly, he took the hat off and hid it behind his back.

Though the main floor was cluttered with couples dancing, and no one was merely watching, there were chairs scattered around the room. Gathering several, the three of them sat down.

"Well, this defeats the purpose of getting you two in to dresses and taking you to a dance." Jack stated blankly, examining the ceiling.

"And you living defeats the purpose of making a perfect world." Talia snapped, eyes narrowed boredly. "And another thing--" She had just noticed that many of the colors on Jack's outfit matches Sarah's dress. "--was it your intention to match Pandora, here?"

He said nothing, and Sarah slowly turned to look at him.

Somewhere near them, footsteps were heard, and someone's annoyingly mocking voice spoke.

"Well, well, well."

Sarah's eyes widened for a moment, then she covered her face with one hand. "Oh _lovely_." She groaned. Curious, Jack turned in the direction that the voice came from, and he suddenly knew why Sarah was aggravated. Drew stood behind her.

"If it isn't the three musketeers." He smiled. Sarah ignored him. "Oh--and Pandora is in a dress! My goodness, what a surprise. Has hell frozen over yet?"

"Well that would explain why the devil has surfaced." She said. It seemed as though Drew ignored her, because he soon addressed Talia.

"Ah…Miss Frost. What an immensely pleasant surprise." Talia rolled her eyes, and Sarah watched as she fingered the edge of her skirt--she had a knife hidden in her boot, and she clearly would have enjoyed using it at this very moment. "Would you care to dance?"

"No, actually," Talia turned to face him. "I would not care to dance. Nor would I care to come within seven feet of you."

Drew's hand, outstretched to Talia, did not move nor did it disappear.

She paused for an extended amount of time, reconsidering with great disgust, then she finally sighed and turned her shoulder coldly to him. "Fine. Whatever. But only until you tell me this…'information.' Then I'm _leaving_." She stood and glared in a hateful and somewhat childish manner. "I don't want to be with you more than entirely necessary."

He smiled and grasped her hand, dragging her onto the dance floor with an excited gait. Talia immediately regretted agreeing.

As she stumbled off behind the ever blissful Drew, she muttered under her breath about how terribly violent she was going to be after this ordeal was over. She wished very much to have a sword materialize out of nowhere, so she could chop off his hand and dash away. The odds of this happening were very low. A few seconds of grumbling later, however, she found a way to entertain herself--since Drew was pulling her along by her hand, she took the opportunity to squeeze his hand as hard as she possibly could, which caused him to wince in pain (though he hid any other signs of discomfort, if any). She smirked. If she could keep this strain of cruel gestures up, perhaps the night wouldn't be so dull after all.

- - - - -

"So…" Jack stared at the ceiling, poking his fingers together expectantly. He and Sarah had been sitting, speaking in mute tones, for the past three minutes or so (After all, Talia had been taken 'hostage' and swept away into the crowd, so they were alone now.), and it had been getting uncomfortable. Jack just felt like he needed so say _something_, even if his statement ended up being pointless. "…it's pretty boring, ain't it?"

"…Why, yes," Sarah replied, fidgeting with her gloves--she only wore them out of safety. The symbol that marked her a pirate was pretty clearly visible on her wrist, so she wore gloves to cover it up. It didn't seem fair to her that Talia didn't have the same problem--her mark was on her upper arm, so it was covered by her sleeve.

"…Those people don't' seem to be bored. Maybe we should…dance, or something." He barely finished his sentence before she answered promptly,

"No."

- - - - -

What luck. A tango.

Not only did she hate Drew, but she had to tango with him.

__

Why me?

Between steps and whatnot, Drew managed to get a few words in to Talia. "You look lovely."

"Don't…" She had to pause because of a step, then she resumed. "…I always? It's getting old." He didn't seem to notice that she was being mordant and getting aggravated.

"Ah…but it is so true," He replied, some sort of half-baked, dreamy look on his face. She frowned. _What an imbecile._

"Look, if you're just here to complement me, I believe I'll have to be going." She pulled away from him, already sick of dancing. He raised his eyebrows and drew his lips together so his mouth almost looked like a tiny dot.

"I suppose I should tell you, then."

"Tell me what?"

- - - - -

"I wonder how Talia's doing."

"I'm sure she's fine."

"…Are your legs asleep?"

"No…"

"Well, mine are. Will you help me wake them up? Say…oh, say a da--"

"No."

- - - - -

"Oh, just a small fact I discovered the other day. Gossips spreads like…" He smiled. "…wildfire. You know?"

"And what would that fact be?" She asked, wondering what he was getting at.

"But do you _want_ to know…oh, hmm…this is a tough decision. Should I tell you…or…not…I just--"

"_What is it!?_" She said forcefully. He was biding his time. Wonderful--he was already on her bad side, just exactly how far did he want to go??

"Alright, alright. I can't believe you haven't heard alre--"

"_Drew!!_"

"…The Nosferatu. It's been spotted."

"What??"

- - - - -

"Exercise is good for you."

"No, Jack."

"Please?"

"No!"

He stood and went over to where she sat, still tugging quietly at her gloves. "Come on!" He seized one of her hands and pulled her out on the floor.

The tango wasn't playing anymore--instead, a sickeningly lively waltz that was little to fast played overhead. Sarah, who had been unable to escape the dance, sighed. This _was_ going to be a long night.

- - - - -

"How do you know I'm looking for the Nosferatu!?"

"I--"

"Shut up! Scratch that, where has it been seen? Who saw it? _How do you know!?_"

Drew held up one hand. "Calm down! I'll tell you, have patience."

"Patience?" She hissed. "Patience my--"

"It's been seen off shore near an island not too far from here. A woman saw it and sent a letter to her friend, who lives here, and who told just about everyone on the island. _Obviously_, I know because I heard it by word of mouth."

"Drew; how did you get to this island before me and me crew?"

There was another period of silence, then Talia shook her head, ruffling her neatly braided hair. "Forget that." She turned immediately and sped out of the hall. A minute or so later, she rushed back in, reluctantly thanked Drew, then ran back out.

Sarah noticed her do this and stepped away from Jack to follow her. As he watched her leave, he groaned. _Curse you, Talia, and we had only been dancing for…not even a minute and a half. I'd kill you…but I'd rather keep my nose. Besides, I'd probably regret it later._

Muttering to himself, he grabbed his hat from the chair he had been sitting on and followed the women out the door.

Talia was standing outside near a horse that was tied to a fence-like structure. She was trying to find her way to her boots through her several skirts.

"Talia?" Sarah cautiously stepped closer. "What--"

Talia whipped out the knife she had finally reached in her boot and pointed it at Sarah. "No time." She turned to the horse, cut the reins so she could pull it away from the fence, then mounted the creature. "Later. I'll explain later." At that brief sentence, which left Sarah feeling uninformed and a little clueless, the captain rode off toward the docks.

She frowned and, confused, began untying one of the other horses. Less than a minute later, Sarah, too, mounted the horse (Please note that both women were most definitely _not_ riding sidesaddle--of course, the way they rode was most difficult in the dresses they wore.) and raced off toward the Death Lily and Talia.

Jack emerged from the building just a few seconds after Sarah took off. He threw his hands into the air. _This is insane! I'll never understand women._ He sighed and started to run back to his own ship, being that he was much too lazy to actually release a horse and ride it.

Hopping down off the saddle, Sarah let the horse run in the streets. _Perhaps it will find it's way home_, She stated in the back of her mind, storing the thought for a rainy day. Talia was already aboard and shouting orders to the crew. Several men were giving her long stares, which she reacted to in a less-than-positive manner.

"Aye, Captain!" One man shouted, in reply to an order from Talia, as he passed Sarah. She approached the fiery haired and fiery tempered captain, who was busy fumbling with her dress. She nearly had the jacket part off.

"Captain?" Talia looked up.

"Yes?"

"What's the rush?"

"The Nosferatu--it's been seen."

Sarah raised her eyebrows. She slowly began to remove her gloves.

"Ah. And I assume that Drew informed you of this?"

"Yes."

"You're trusting him? Captain, if I may be so bold, he isn't exactly the trustworthy type, if you catch what I'm saying. He could be lying." She almost hesitated to say it, but she felt it was essential.

"How dare you admonish me! Believe me, he's not lying. I can _tell_." She was crossly messing with the string of pearls around her waist, restricting her from _completely_ removing the jacket.

"Whatever you say."

She wondered silently if Drew really _was_ lying or not, and if Talia really knew that he wasn't--or if she just really, _really_ wanted to believe his tale.

"Let's go get out of these accursed dress…things." Talia muttered, heading in the direction of the stairs. Sarah followed her down the steps below deck, then the parted and entered their separate quarters. Talia ended up slicing the string of pearls in two because she couldn't get it off, then she had little difficultly changing back into her regular clothes. Sarah, on the other hand, took a bit of time untying the man laced up parts on her dress before she was able to change. They met in between their rooms, both carrying their skirts, blouses, and corsets from the dance, then they headed back on deck. Talia walked to the edge of the ship, at the side facing the Black Pearl, where Jack, too, was shouting orders now that he had reached his ship. She held the clothes up for a moment, then tossed them toward the water. Sarah did the same.

"Well, I'm sure glad _that's_ over with," Sarah said as Talia headed back to her position at the rear of the ship.

"You can say that again," She replied, stretching her arms. "but then again, don't, that'd be irritating."

Sarah nodded absentmindedly, then sat down on the small step near where they stood. "So…besides the obvious…what did you and Drew talk about?" She asked, putting her hair up in her usual blue bandana.

Talia rolled her eyes. "Nothing. He basically annoyed me with his usual 'you look lovely' speech, then took a painfully long time to tell me about the ship."

"Sounds like it was a jolly good time."

Talia made a noise that sounded as if it could have been laughter--sarcastic laugher, mind you.

"I can see why you hate him so much." She glanced at Sarah, who extended the corners of her mouth as if she was going to smile, but then she didn't. Talia turned to the Black Pearl. "Hey Jack!!" She yelled. Jack turned to her.

"Aye?"

"We're settin' sail! The Nosferatu has been spotted!"

"Right behind you Miss Frost!"

Jack grinned, though it couldn't be seen by anyone on the Death Lily, and Talia merely rolled her eyes and turned away, "I need a vacation…" She sighed, rubbing her forehead with her palm.


	7. The Nosferatu

It took two days of putting up with Talia's shouting to find the Nosferatu; two days of tortuous boredom and anxiety, for some. Sarah, personally was more intrigued as to what the Nosferatu meant to Talia and why she was going after it in the first place.

The morning after the dance, Sarah sat on a crate near the side of the ship, watching one of the invisibles get scolded by the captain, who was spotting mistakes with renewed vigor now that her goal was in sight.

Across from her, Ryan, who never seemed to be doing anything when she looked, was playing Solitaire with a tired look and watching him with very _little_ interest, was Chess.

Not too far to her left was Asher, who was pretending to work (since Talia was preoccupied, his effort in making his pretending look convincing was lacking). Sarah looked over at him and contemplated for a moment, then spoke;

"Asher,"

"Yeah?"

"What's up with Talia and the Nosferatu?"

He heard this and stopped working, then he sauntered over and took a seat on another nearby crate. "Ahh…the Nosferatu…they killed her father." _He stopped 'working' to tell me that??_

"She's after revenge?"

"No, they kidnapped her twin brother."

Sarah looked up at Talia, who was now screaming the ears off of a different invisible. The previous one was standing a little ways off, rubbing his hears a bit mournfully. "She has a twin?" She returned her gaze to Asher, who nodded. "Is that a well known fact?"

"Sort of, yeah."

"Oh." Ignoring the twinge of irony that she felt when she realized that she was in the middle of a deal that had to do with something she knew nothing about, yet everyone else knew, she rested her head in one hand. "So that's why she was so hot to get out to sea."

"That's the general idea--but don't think that revenge's got nothin' to do with it." Asher looked at Talia, who had, again, found a new victim. "Oh, a word of warning. If she takes you along to rescue her brother, be prepared for madness." He stood then and returned to pretending. Sarah felt confused and, to be honest, a little frightened at his last statement, but she was soon distracted by Jack, who was standing near Ryan.

"Jack?" _How in the world does he get on board everyday??_ He seemed to hear her say his name, and he turned to look at her.

"Wot?" He asked, walking over.

"Huh? Oh, nothing."

In an odd sort of coincidence, both of them looked up at the same time. The sun was hidden behind several clouds and it had been that way all morning, yet the sky stayed its lovely and energetic blue. "So what would you say about the sky today?"

"…Um…I guess…something important will happen tomorrow." She shrugged, still looking up.

"You just made that up now."

"…Yeah, well…so? Besides, it makes sense."

Their eyes returned to the ground and they both heard Talia shout something loudly. _Yet another new invisible to yell at. She'll never stop, honestly._ Jack laughed a little. "Well, yeah, it does make sense, I'll give you that. I _hope_ something important happens tomorrow--it'll probably be finding that ship, the Nosfu…Nosfos…ah, Nosferatu, and that'll distract Miss Frost from pointlessly roaring at every crew member who so much as moves his finger the wrong way."

She laughed in reply. At the moment, she was on pretty good terms with him, though it may have just been her unconscious mind reminding her of the impending end of the bargain--since Jack hadn't done much along the way, she was fairly certain she'd be staying on the Death Lily. Then again maybe she just had, for once, no reason to be angry with him.

Nothing else of note happened that day, and the next morning brought nothing, either. It wasn't until late afternoon, when they were nearing an island that looked uninhabited, that they spotted another ship that had dropped anchor nearby. Given, the strange ship was about two Death Lily-lengths away, but Talia commanded the crew to drop anchor, as well, and Jack followed suit on the Black Pearl.

"That's the Nosferatu!" She exclaimed, facing it and glaring, hands gripping the railing at the side of the ship. Many, if not all, of the invisibles, as well as Asher, Sarah, Jack (who had recently come aboard again), and Chess, went to look just as she said this. Ryan, however, looked up briefly, then began a new game of Solitaire, sighing.

"Here we go…" He muttered.

"What now, cap'n?" One of the invisibles shouted (It was _not_ one of the ones she had yelled at. Most of _them_ were too afraid to say anything to her anymore.). Talia turned around to face the crew.

"We wait!" She replied. Several people nodded, then took a double-take. Murmurs of 'wait?' 'what does she mean by wait?' and 'for how long?' could be heard all about the ship. "Shut up! We wait until a time that is yet to be determined, ye scabrous dogs!" She hollered. That quieted most everyone.

It had turned dark by the time Talia announced that she and a small group of people would be going aboard the Nosferatu.

"The group will consist of Asher, Ryan, Mr. Chess, Pandora, and myself," She said, gathering the attention of the mentioned people…and Jack.

"Wh-what about me?" He stammered, a little put-off and insulted. He had made a deal with her, hadn't he?

"You're staying on your own dem ship," She replied haughtily. When he demanded to know the reason, she answered, "Because; our negotiation dealt not with you coming _with me_ when we found the ship, but that you would _help me_ to _my_ satisfaction." She nodded to the people accompanying her, drawing them over in a clump. Talia crossed her arms. "We'll discuss our deal later."

Asher, now that Talia was finished rebuking Jack, leaned over and asked, "Ah--Talia? We're not doing what we usually do…are we?" She gave him a look that she commonly gave Sarah--a goodness-gracious-what-happened-to-your-brain-cells look.

"Of _course_ we're doing what we usually do!"

"Huh?" Sarah said, bemused. What did they mean by 'what we usually do?' Talia glanced at her and smiled.

- - - - -

A few minutes later, the five were cold, wet, and swimming to the Nosferatu. When Sarah had questioned why, she got an answer not from Talia, but from Chess, who 'kindly' explained that Talia seemed to like being stealthy when boarding a ship. Sure, she enjoyed killing people, given they were stupid, but being sneaky just seemed to trip her trigger, to put it bluntly. "Maybe she just doesn't like the hassle of firing at an enemy ship and using grappling hooks and whatnot--or maybe she just covets the Death Lily, no one's really sure." He finished.

It took between twenty and forty minutes to arrive at the Nosferatu, and at least ten to climb up the side and hide behind a grouping of conveniently placed barrels and crates (for those of you who cannot do the math, that is at _least_ thirty minutes, most likely more, though).

Talia was staring intently at the stairs almost directly across from where the group crouched. "Uhh…Talia? What now?" Ryan, who was having difficulty staying below the sight-line of the top of the crates, asked her quietly. She didn't reply at first, instead, she just continued to focus on the stairs. He had to poke her three times for her to finally register that he was talking to her.

"…Make a run for it." She answered in an equally quiet voice. Asher, Chess, and Sarah all swiveled to look at her (Ryan was _already_ looking at her, he didn't turn around then turn back just to make it dramatic). Realizing that she was serious, not being traditionally sarcastic, they all begrudgingly looked out at the stairs.

Several crew members were walking past the stairs, and it looked as if it would be difficult to rush to the stairs with them patrolling so near to the goal. Talia didn't seem to agree, however, so she inched her way closer to the exit of their hiding spot. "If all o' ye are finished doubting me, ye can follow me lead." She said, glancing back at the somewhat fearing group. Talia was very rash.

With reflexes similar to that of a cat's, she darted out from behind the crates, barrels, etc. and toward the stairs. By some strange stroke of luck, not a single man saw her, and she rushed down the steps safely.

The remainder of the group flashed horrified looks and looked out from their spot again. Now she waited for them, not watching to see if they screwed it up.

Ryan turned to Asher and stared for a moment. "Asher, you go first," He whispered, ducking his head a little lower for fear of being spotted. Asher turned to him and his jaw dropped.

"Wh-what?? Why me??" He stammered.

Instead of Ryan, Sarah replied. "You're the first mate," She offered. He looked at her with an appalled expression, then he swallowed hard, inched toward the outlet of the concealing location, and then dashed out toward the steps.

In another display of God's apparent rare favoritism for the clueless group following the Devil herself, he made it securely to the stairs, leaving the three behind the crates with sighs of relief and gasps of anxiety.

Ryan seemed about ready to suggest that Chess ran, but the latter intercepted him before he was able. "Ryan, it's your turn." He hissed, causing Ryan to bare his teeth and animate his face with a look of despair. Since he couldn't find an excuse as to why he couldn't go yet, he turned to look at the objective and took a deep breath, then he made a run for it.

When he, too, arrived at the opening that led below deck without harm, he not only astonished the two still in hiding, both of them reasoning that their luck couldn't hold out too much longer, but it also surprised the people waiting. It was not at all expected that _three_ of them would make it without being seen.

"…I'll go," Sarah ventured. Chess turned to stare at her for a moment, then he placed his hands together, palms facing each other as if praying, and smiled uneasily.

"God be with ye, mate."

She nodded a little jerkily then sluggishly moved to the side of the crates. _ Luck, I know you're bad, but just this once, do something for me…and work for once._ She thought, sighing. A second or two later, she ran out into the open.

Clearly, her luck had listened to her, because a few seconds later she arrived on the stairs, the safe-haven, her adreneline kicking her stiffly in the chest. A minute later, Chess joined them and they, once again, set off, this time down the passage to the brig.

"Now, if we pass anyone and they see ye…very likely…do not hesitate to kill 'em," Talia instructed as they traversed through the route. The four tagging along behind her were struggling to listen, walk without tripping, and watch for people at the same time. The majority of them had heard the speech before, so they were mostly just listening to see if she changed anything at the last moment.

As if called, a man happened to come up the stairs and see the group walking furtively down the steps. He immediately drew his sword, and Talia, since she was closest, pulled out a knife and swiftly slit his throat.

As he fell to the ground, Sarah cringed at the noise and murmured, "I'll bet someone heard that…" Ryan, who was in front of her, nodded and watched as Talia replaced her dagger.

The captain turned to face her groupies and frowned. "You know, if ye all stand in a line like that, I'll be the only one killin' people. You probably want that, don't ye?" Asher, who was standing closest to _her_, rolled his eyes as she turned her back.

From that point on, the group spread out along the width of the stairs, ready to, concisely, kill anyone who approached them, although, to be frank, they only ran into about three more people, all of whom they killed with the quickness of a frog catching a fly.

By the time they reached the holding area, they had traveled down three flights of stairs and had left several bodies lying on them, almost as evidence that they had been through there--which wasn't exactly smart, but they mostly figured that they would end up having to fight half the ship in the end anyway.

To their advantage, as they came down the final steps, there was a wall that hid them from whoever was around the corner, probably the jail keeper. Talia, again, turned to face her comrades.

"Stay here. Kill anyone who comes down," She commanded, staring them all down. As soon as her back was turned, they all sighed and rolled their eyes. No, when someone came down, they would all kindly direct them to where Talia was, and while they were at it, they would explain what exactly they were doing and how they had gotten there and where they were from.

What did she think they were, morons?

Probably.

She stuck her head around the corner, her eyes falling upon two interesting things--one being the jail cell that held her twin, and the other being a woman that she was somewhat surprised to see--Alley.

__

Hey, I know you. She really wanted to shout that, but she didn't. Instead, she closed her eyes, gathered serenity, then stepped out from her hiding spot. It took several seconds for Alley to notice her, but when she did, she lost all interest that she had previously had in the prisoner.

"Alley."

"Talia."

"Long time, no see."

"What a pleasure that long time was."

"Indeed."

Alley was tallish, though a little shorter than Talia, and she had brownish red hair that fell, twisting madly, near her shoulders. Her eyes were a dulling green color that seemed to reflect her cold voice. They had known each other when they were little, then they went their separate ways and never saw each other again--that is, until Talia saw Alley on the Nosferatu when they killed her father. Now there's a new enemy, if she ever saw one

"Should we start this?" The jail keeper asked.

"No--" Talia answered, a smirk slowly developing on her face, accenting the thin scar on her cheek. "--we should finish it."

Alley unsheathed her sword, and Talia's hand dropped to where hers _should_ have been--however, the spot that generally held her blade was empty. As her opponents saber drew nearer, she rapidly pulled out three knives with each hand and swung a hand forward, blocking Alley's attack. _I _knew_ I should have brought that dem thing…augh!!_ The farther the battle progressed, the more she wished she hadn't carelessly forgotten her sword.

"Missing something, dear Miss Frost?"

"Yeah, I'm missing the peaceful silence there'll be once you're dead!" She used one dagger-clawed hand to force Alley's hand and weapon into the cell across from her brothers (which made an oh-so-lovely clang sound that was likely heard by the crew on deck), then with her other hand, she lunged forward and slashed at her adversary, which left a long gash across Alley's midsection.

Alley fell in a heap, leaving Talia alone in the silence. After glancing around and listening to hear if anyone was coming, she knelt down and started to search the pockets of the jail keeper for the keys to her brother's cell. Time was of the essence--it was impossible to tell when people would start coming down to investigate.

"Talia?" She looked up. Her brother was standing with his fingers curled around the bars on the door of his cell, staring at her. Slowly, a look of realization appeared on his face.

"Adrian!" She exclaimed, standing up. She smiled, which was a rare occurrence. Of course, it was only a split second after she said this that she demanded to know where the keys to his cell were held. He laughed a little, thinking that she never would change, and replied,

"Uhh, they're in her left pocket on the inside of her vest." Adrian pointed to her body on the floor and watched as Talia rummaged around in her fallen contender's vest pocket.

As soon as she found them, she stood and tried the keys to find which one was the key that matched his door. The fourth key she tried clicked and the barred door swung open--the sound it produced almost _assured_ that people would be coming soon.

The twins returned to the four, who were standing guard, looking tired and bored, though sort of alert at the same time, which caused an immense paradox, story-wise, but we'll be returning to the plot now. They turned to look at her and the total six of them stood in silence for near a half a minute.

"Well? Are we going to just stand here and _wait_ for them to come and slaughter us as we do nothing?" The captain inquired forcefully. Another audible sigh of exasperated expectancy, then the four watchmen turned and began to head up the stairs, Talia and Adrian, for a change, trailing behind.

Not too astoundingly, there was an ambush waiting for them when they arrived on deck. Since they had anticipated it, however, it was far less effective. All of the Death Lily crew had their weapons already drawn when they emerged from below, and so the 'ambush' became a hack-and-slash fest, mostly.

Talia and co. managed to force themselves to the side of the ship and, as they were in the brief calm before they would be attacked again, they all took a cautious look over the side.

"What now?" Sarah asked, looking over at Talia, who was staring quite intently at the water.

A loud roar from behind them, and they all turned to view a large mass of people heading toward them. _Oh geez, we're _so_ ready to face a congregation of that size with _six people_. Great._ Sarah thought dismally, frowning and turning back to Talia, who raised her eyebrows, put one foot on the railing, and then dived into the water.

Had any of her partners been drinking, they would have either coughed it up or spit it in someone's face. "Not again…" Asher moaned. He was obviously sick of having to swim everywhere.

Ryan clapped a hand on his shoulder and grinned falsely. "Welcome to piracy," He said, watching Asher close his eyes and sigh. Ryan followed suit to Talia and dived into the sea, leaving Adrian (who, a millisecond later, jumped in, as well), Chess, Asher, and Sarah to stare wide-eyed at the oncoming assemblage of people.

"I've changed me mind--I'd _much_ rather swim than face that. See you on the Death Lily, mates!" Chess cried, mimicking the three before him and landing with a splash in the cold water. Asher and Sarah looked at each other, looked at the group, looked at each other again, then Asher turned at leaped off the ship.

"Oh no you don't! I'm not staying!" Sarah shouted after him, also jumping off the side and landing hard in the chilling sea.

And it was a _very_ long trip back.


	8. Shuffle or Boogie

"I'm so sick of swimming, I could--"

"You work on a _ship_, Asher."

Talia was very tired of listening to Asher grip about swimming, and the feeling was mutual with the rest of the group. Since the swim back to the Death Lily was slightly longer than the trip to the _Nosferatu_, due to Adrian's weakened state and having to watch him to make sure he didn't sink under the water because of previously mentioned weakened state, everyone had much more time to listen to Asher moan and complain.

A few minutes after Talia reminded him that he was a member of a crew on the sea, he started up again, which brought about several not-so-positive reactions--

"Oh, would you _shut up??_"

"For the love of all that is holy!"

"Get _over_ it already!!"

It was only then that he began to realize just how irritating he was becoming, and so he fell silent for the rest of the journey (muttering to himself instead, as he wouldn't be heard over the water lapping in everyone's ears).

Nearly an hour later, the six crawled on to the deck of the Death Lily, coughing, sputtering, and grumbling annoyedly. Talia was the first person up and she pulled her brother to his feet, as well. As the quartet struggled to do the same, she led him down stairs to dry off and find a room (they only had a few empty ones).

"How did it go?" One of the invisibles asked Ryan, who then stood and shook his head, spraying water droplets onto the surrounding area.

"All I can tell you is that the Nosferatu is full of dead--and living--people and we got Adrian. And we're cold," He replied, observing as Sarah, then Chess managed to stand, and Asher lay on his back, still muttering under his breath about the inconvenience of having to swim all the time (which was a lie, plain and simple--they didn't swim _all_ the time).

It took Talia to get Asher up from the ground, and when everyone had verily regained their composure and were fairly dry, she returned to her spot at the helm and commanded that the crew hoist the anchor.

The stars glittered above as they headed to the nearest port town to purchase supplies and plunder and whatnot. No one could sleep because of the evening's activities, so everyone, jobless or otherwise, was roaming restlessly about the deck of the ship. The Black Pearl, on the other hand, was somewhat absent of a visible crew. Since they had had almost nothing to do with the rescue/revenge itself, many people had, evidently, gone to bed. Jack, however, was aboard the Death Lily, making light conversation with the not-so-preoccupied invisibles…and Sarah.

Miss Warren stood in her usual spot--the side of the ship--staring out mindlessly at the sea. When Jack addressed her, her response was quite sluggish, and she almost had to be dragged away from her view of the water to actually have a competent conversation with her. She was clearly tiredly distracted by the sight of the ocean.

"Sarah!"

"…Um…oh, uh, Pandora."

"…Tired?"

"…What?"

Jack grasped her by the shoulders and turned her around. "I _said_, 'tired?'" She stared at him blankly, then a more awake look appeared in her eyes.

"Oh! Yeah…you'd be, too, if you had gone with that madwoman. Be thankful--" She yawned widely. "--she made you stay here."

"Sure. Go to bed." He said, almost laughing. He didn't quite agree with her about having to stay--it had been so boring, he had nearly fallen asleep himself! With a sigh and an expression of lethargic defiance, she headed toward the stairs (though it would take a little while for her to ever 'head toward the stairs' the same way again).

"Oh, hey, uh…you were right; something important _did_ happen today." He stopped her with his words, and she turned around.

"Yup. To coin a phrase, 'I'm always right.'" She smirked, then resumed walking. _I'm going to have bloody nightmares about sneaking around ships with a crazy murderess. Wonderful._ She thought, opening her door and stepping into her lonely cubicle. _At least you're alive,_ Her more optimistic side piped up. _What are you, Miss Caroler-of-the-Good-News?_ Her more cynical side chided. _And lovely, now I'm talking to myself. I'm going to sleep…_ She crawled into her bed and almost fell asleep before she could finish climbing under the make-shift sheets.

Not too long after she left Jack (who went to talk to Chess after she disappeared down the stairwell), Talia approached her fellow captain and demanded that he return to his own ship and leave her crew in peace. He obliged, naturally, since Talia seemed more prone to violence than usual that night.

The next morning, as the sun rose, casting a beautiful golden haze across the sea, the two ships had _already_ arrived at the port of another _random_ port town and Talia had _already_ gone to get supplies. Therefore, they were beginning to set sail again when Talia awakened Sarah.

As soon as the blonde rolled out of bed and hit the floor with a woody thunk, she slowly shuffled to her feet and stumbled up the stairs. Of course, no matter how tired she was, the sun woke her up completely with its piercing rays.

"Morning, sunshine," Asher muttered as she stepped into his field of vision. As she looked over at him, Sarah couldn't help but notice that he was dripping wet. He seemed to see that she noticed, so he held up one hand. "Please, don't ask. But remind me not to complain about swimming." As he wandered off to do some other menial task, Ryan, who had been standing behind Sarah the entire time, spoke;

"Talia woke him up with a bucket of water this morning," He explained, startling her. She turned.

"Serious?"

"Yeah."

"Wow. Not that I'm surprised," She looked at Talia, who was talking to Adrian and simultaneously reprimanding an invisible. _What emotional stress that boy must go through with her…_

"Eh, well, I'd better go work before she starts yelling at _me_. Have a lovely day." He turned away, leaving her alone.

She sighed and turned to the edge. She _still_ had nothing to do and she _really_ didn't want to ask Talia about it, seeing as she would probably go ballistic on her. Though she could have looked at the sky, she didn't. For once, she didn't particularly _want_ to know what would happen.

As she stared at the water, looking for something to interest her enough for her brain to shut off (What else was there to do?), she heard Jack's familiar slur from a point somewhere behind her. She turned to see him speaking to Talia, Adrian now gone and talking with Ryan. She strained her ears to hear what they were saying, not daring to come any closer.

"Eh, Talia?" Jack asked cautiously.

"What?"

"Our deal?"

She loosely pushed back her scarlet hair, which shone vividly in the sunlight, then rested her hands on her hips. "Oh. Right." She glanced at Sarah, who jumped, their eyes meeting, then turned away (though she was still attempting to listen in). "…You were more a _distraction_ than a help along the way…so I'm going to have to decline on the Pandora transfer." (Sarah smiled and almost laughed out loud with joy) Talia was reluctant to admit that Jack _did_ help a bit (even if it was so clouded over that it _looked_ like he hadn't helped at all), and that she didn't _really_ want to give up Sarah.

"What??" He _knew_ he had helped, even if it had only been so little that it would be a stretch to mention anything, but he _had_ helped, nonetheless. He knew from personal experience that it was not wise to object to her, but he felt he needed to, as this was an injustice. "But--I gotta object with ye on this one, Miss Frost, I _insist_ that I helped you!"

"Well, maybe ye did, but our _agreement_ was that you assist me to _my_ satisfaction, and your 'helping'--" She hooked her fingers dramatically. "--did not _please_ me, Jack Sparrow." He opened his mouth to retort, but her reproving--and raging--look made him shut it unhappily.

He turned and began to walk away, probably to return to his own ship, but Talia continued. "I'm not finished wit you!" She called. He paused, then turned back around.

"Huh?"

"When I agreed to do this, I expected _help_, and all you've done is tag along, so if you'll _help_--notice I said _help_, not lollygag--_help_ me ensnare and kill that conniving imbecile, Drew, you can have Pandora."

"_WHAT!?_"

Jack shrugged, cleverly disguising his joy at having a second chance, and grasped Talia's now-outstretched hand. "We have an accord."

"Indeed we do."

Fury, fury, fury. Sarah shook with anger. She had been _so close_ to never seeing Jack again, _so close_ to never having to worry about falling in love again, and then Talia, who was, by the way, the recent cause of most of her problems (and solutions, though she wasn't in the best mood to admit it--nor was she in the best mood to admit that she was _happy_ about Jack having a second chance), just up and sold her off--again. Instead of storming off, though, she sat down on the deck and buried her face in her arms. _Jack, I'll _kill_ you before you help that woman._ She swore (again, denying that she was mostly quite glad that Talia wanted to kill Drew, since she hated him as well…though probably to a somewhat lesser degree).

She wouldn't talk to _anyone_ for the rest of the day, save for Asher, who could drown out her sorrows with his own ("swimming, swimming, etc."), and she didn't go to her quarters until after Jack left.

Sadly, she had to face him again the next morning, but she had cooled off by then and was being social once more.

When she first came on deck, the only people out were a handful of invisibles, Asher, Talia, and Adrian, who was wandering aimlessly. She took this time to take note of what she had learned about the captain's twin.

As you can imagine, he looked stunningly alike the his sister, aside from the fact that he had shorter hair, somewhat warmer eyes, and he was missing an eye. Yes, missing an eye--which, of course, meant that he had an eye-patch.

Since Adrian Frost _looked_ so similar to Talia, it seemed as if he would be more intimidating--what with his identical scar on his cheek, eye-patch barely hidden by red hair, and such like points of interest--but he was almost the complete opposite of her. In other words, he was quiet, a little shy, and didn't kill someone the second they disagreed with him, unlike his sister.

She observed him for several minutes, watching as he made small talk with whoever he came upon first, then she turned to watch the water again. What boredom could ensue. Sometimes she was _really_ glad that Talia never made her do anything (or rather, threatened her to get her to do something, but she never told her exactly _what_ to do…so it was pretty much the same as having nothing to do).

"Hello." She looked up to see Adrian standing next to her, watching her with what appeared to be feigned interest, though it probably just looked that way. She smiled a bit.

"Mm? Oh, 'lo," She replied. He turned to the water, as she had been doing, and leaned on the edge. She did the same, though it was really just resuming what she had been doing already, for her.

"How long have you been working on the Death Lily?" He asked, tapping the wood with his short fingernails. _Hmm. Tapping wood must run in the family._ She thought, watching his fingers.

"Ohh…" She thought for a moment. She had never really stopped to consider how long she had been on the Death Lily. "I'm…not really sure. Good question." She smiled a little wider and shrugged. "So you're Talia's twin brother? What's it like, living with _her??_"

He sighed and laughed. "…Hah…oh, i-it's interesting. It's not as bad as you'd think, though." They both looked to Talia, who was standing in her usual spot, shouting orders. Sarah raised her eyebrows.

"Really?"

They both laughed this time and Sarah took notice of how pleasurable the conversation was. It was nice to have someone like Adrian to talk with for a change.

As the day wore on, Sarah was surprised to see that Talia had not once come over to scream at her for slacking off. She attributed this to the fact that Adrian seemed to be enjoying himself and she seemed to care for her brother a _lot_, so perhaps she didn't want to interrupt the amusement. It seemed logical enough for her.

Also throughout the morning, people joined the conversation for small snippets at a time, which made the dialogue much more diverse and entertaining. Altogether, it was the highlight of the…week. Yes, week.

However, the peace didn't last forever…no, peace simply _couldn't_ last after six weeks with the same people. The day the tension broke had started out normally enough…

Ryan, being the entrepreneur he was, started a card tournament, since there was nothing else to do, and most of the crew was participating, Talia included.

It wasn't until Jack mistakenly beat Talia that the chaos started. Apparently, that didn't sit too well with the Captain. Chess, who had been playing Sarah, ironically, looked up to see Talia on her feet, glaring at Jack with just about every one of her knives drawn and pointed at him. "Uh oh…looks like we've been cooped up too long. Too bad we're sitting at the table right next to 'em…" He whispered. Sarah looked up, too.

"Ah--T-Talia…y-y-you know, I didn't--it was, uh…" Jack stuttered, trying to convince Talia _not_ to gut him. He clearly hadn't been thinking (you just don't _beat_ Talia).

"It wasn't his fault!" One of the invisibles shouted in a single act of unbelievable courage. Talia's eyes darted around to find the one who had called out.

"Yeah, ye always do dis!" Another hollered. Talia happened to catch the one talking and switched several knives to face _him_ instead. Goodness knows, she had many to spare.

"I won't take questioning, nor second-guessing, not from the likes of you!" She responded, her voice reaching a fevered pitch. "If any one o' ye want to take this further, let 'em speak!" A resounding silence, then Talia, who's blades were still out and ready to impale, sat down. She glared hatefully at Jack and, with a sort of forced calm in her voice, said, "Alrighty, _Jack_, let's…have…a rematch."

"Okay…" He replied, afraid to decline.

Soon, the crew began to realize firsthand just how lethal being 'cooped up for too long' could be. Everything went downhill from there. Several invisibles sitting near each other got in a nasty argument that eventually evolved into a fistfight, an invisible cheated against Ryan, who proceeded to deliver the beat down upon him, Asher finally succeeded in driving half the room crazy (Chess included) and most everyone began to form gangs and beat each other up, and finally, Talia, Jack, and Sarah snapped, screeching mindlessly at each other and bickering to kingdom come.

It must have been a miracle that Justin (the 'land ho' man who had decided _not_ to join in the festivities of the card tournament) and two other invisibles had been on deck, spotted the next island, and had sailed to it, all the while the slugfest downstairs raged on. As it slowly began to overflow on deck, and people started to actually _notice_ that there was a town directly next to them, the fighting reached a high point; people fought each other to _get off_ the ship.

Jack, Talia, and Sarah, who had been in their own little territorial war, struggled past the crowd and off the ship (amazingly). As the crew emptied out into the town like fish escaping a fisherman's net, the three of them stood in a small circle, glaring at each other.

Finally, Talia spoke, and said, "Fine. Alright. We'll take the sections. I'll take the east section, Sarah, you take the west, and Jack, you've got the north. Now--let's make this understandable. I-don't-want-to-see-any-of-you-for-a-week, is that clear?"

"Great. Fine by me."

"Crystal clear. Happy to oblige."

They all split and went their separate ways, content to be alone for a whole seven days--and so the week of partition began.


	9. Misery Loves Company

Sarah walked away from the port, relieved that she would be free from "duty" for a whole week--not that she had anything specific planned. Everything was rosy-tinted now that she could do whatever she wanted, and she made sure that the first thing on her agenda was serving herself.

As she surveyed the east section, her section, she brooded. After all, tomorrow, she probably wouldn't want to brood. Among her jumbled thoughts were various detailed descriptions of how mad she was at Talia and Jack and everything else. She didn't want to be on the sea with a homicidal maniac, she didn't want to be cooped up on _that_ ship, she didn't want to see people she was familiar with, and she did _not_ want to talk to Jack. Ever. Ever ever. Her anger was bringing to surface memories of her short time on the Black Pearl. Spotting a nearby tavern, she entered to sit down.

It was a bit warm inside, and there two or three unscrupulous people sitting at the tables, but no one ever said Sarah was a saint, so she sat down at an empty table. Resting an arm on the table, she propped up her head with one hand on her forehead and closed her eyes to think and remember her past. In a split second, it seemed, she was back in Tortuga, eleven years younger and eleven years more naïve.

She was only sixteen then, and had hitchhiked to Tortuga by boat (She was able to go to Tortuga in the first place because she had been abandoned as a very small child, taught by a nine year old boy for six years, then abandoned once more--then she decided to become a pirate, so she, as said before, hitched hiked to Tortuga by boat. In other words, she didn't have any restrictions on where she could or couldn't go.), hoping for an opportunity to work on a ship. She had been there for almost a half a year and still had not been hired. All she had was her cutlass, pistol, and friend and fellow pirate, Drew, and that certainly wasn't much.

That particular day had started like any other day--sitting on the street corner, talking absentmindedly to Drew, the weather, overcast and muggy, like the other 183 days. She had been there for so long, denied so many times of being on a ship, she was about ready to give up and become a whore pouring rum down some drunkard's throat.

However, _this_ day, Drew had kindly pointed out an interesting thing--an interesting think in the interesting shape of an _interesting_ ship.

Now this was only the sixth ship she had seen in all six months she had been in this "pirate town"--which wasn't' really a "pirate town" at all, really just a town full of drunks and people beating each other up on mere sight. Nevertheless, though she had been unable to join any ships yet, she was _sure_ this was the one she'd get a job on, she was _positive_. She couldn't explain it, but she was sure, just the same.

An hour or so later, she spied a ragged, swaggering man with dark brown, almost black, hair heading into town in the opposite direction of the docks. Unless he had swam to shore (not that that was out of the question--he certainly looked the part), the only ship in the port was the one that had just come in, so that meant that he must have come from it. She stood, rushing over, and asked him about a job (mind you, this was _not_ the part that Sarah could remember vividly) as fast as she could--his reply was slow and sort of distracted. And he didn't give her an answer, either. He told her he was waiting for a connection in the town and he would get back to her as soon as he could.

Annoyed, figuring he was lying and judging her by the superstition that women were bad luck, she stalked off, returning to her corner where she sat until nightfall; it was _dark_ when she saw the man again, this time traveling with a much taller man. She sprung up to ask again, but again, she was detoured. He told her that he had to discuss it first--and while he was at it, he told her that his name was _Captain_ Jack Sparrow, and the man he was walking with who was so much taller than him that he could verily look at the top of Jack's head was named Hector Barbossa--his first mate.

Sarah sat back down on the cold cobblestones, disgruntled and firmly determined. She had glimpsed her way off of this rock, and she would stop and nothing to escape.

The next morning was just as, if not more, uneventful as the previous one. She couldn't sleep, so she went to her corner early and watched Tortuga's port awaken (the rest of the town was terribly lively--just not the port, apparently). In eventuality, Drew came and they spoke of many things (fools and kings), the conversation ending with her only friend standing up and leaving her, making the excuse that he had a previous engagement. She didn't mind.

It wasn't long before she noticed Jack, alone once more, striding through the streets. She bounded _again_ to ask, but she was foiled a third time. She was beginning to get impatient (as sixteen-year-olds often did), and made it obvious to him. He somewhat calmly explained that he would contact her when he had an answer. Protesting, she offered to meet him _every day_ to find out--_eventually_ he'd have an answer, right? He agreed, if not slightly reluctantly.

In accordance to their agreement, Sarah and Jack met every day and, seeing as Jack never seemed to have an answer and both were reluctant to part ways so soon, discussed what went on in their lives as of late. The more she met wit him, the more she had the feeling that she was falling in love with him, which was an odd feeling indeed. She'd never tell him, though. She'd heard the stories--many a heart broken by that curse called 'love.'

(As Sarah moved further into the story, the details became much more pronounced--this was where her memory became more clear, her emotions at this part of her past far more extreme.) Around a month or so after the Black Pearl (she now knew the name of Jack's ship, thank heavens) arrived in Tortuga and she inquired about a job, Drew came to her, as per usual, and asked if she had been hired to the crew yet. She begrudgingly admitted that, no, she hadn't yet, which was her answer every time he asked her. Instead of his normal reply, a reproving look that she was used to and was beginning to find sort of amusing, he stared at her with some sort of aura around him that she didn't recognize, and there was something a little unsettling about it.

"I should think that you'd have gotten an answer by now," He commented, a bizarre tone in his voice. Sarah feared that, no matter how long she knew this man, she would never understand him--this, however, was almost a completely different matter. His stable mood and rapidly fluctuated to a uncanny, distant quality. What strange things should come of this man, she was not to know, as of yet. He continued; "how strange. You do, truly, talk to him _every day_, yes?" She nodded, too bewildered at his change to say so much as a syllable. "Then it is _truly_ curious that he has not answered yet."

"…Yes," She agreed, more concerned about him than Jack's answer, at the moment. He smiled a bit coldly and turned away from her.

"Well, Pandora, I have yet another previous engagement, I regret to inform you, so I must bid you adieu. Again." He bowed jokingly as he always did, which made her feel a little less uncomfortable, but he left her with a feeling of unmistakable unease. She wondered if something was wrong.

Before she could pursue the subject further in her mind, Jack ambled into her thoughts and took a seat next to her (she was, by the way, in a tavern near her 'spot').

"G'day, love," He said. She looked up for a moment and then caught herself before she would have needed a double-take. His face held something different, as well. "How has your day been so far?"

"Uhm…" What was going _on_ today? Was it Friday the thirteenth or something and she didn't even know it? "I…guess it's been okay. Sort of weird, but better than other days."

"I see." He was gazing thoughtfully at his dirt-caked fingernails, shifting his jaw ruminatively. "Uh…I've got something to tell you." _Well, it clearly isn't _good_ news,_ She recalled thinking. He grasped one of her hands, which caused her to nearly jump with surprise. Now _that_ was a startling development. "Sarah…uh…I have an answer to your question from…oh, a month ago." He caught her attention. Not as if he didn't have her attention from the get-go, but now her senses were heightened; he was going to tell her if she could work on the Black Pearl or not!!--but as she watched his expression, she felt her stomach sink to her feet. "Ye…can't. I'm sorry."

Silence.

"I, uh, talked it over with Barbossa and we thought about the rest o' the crew--" Jack had hired some crew members during the duration of Sarah's waiting period. "--and…well, uh, due to certain _superstitions_ floating around--th-that I don't' believe in, by the way--we decided it'd be…sort of best if ye refrained from joining the crew."

Silence.

More silence.

"I really am sorry, honestly."

She pulled her hand away. "Oh." Was pretty much all she could say. She had to first recover from the shock before she could make any sudden emotional statements.

The longer she waited to recover, the more it seemed she wasn't _going_ to. She observed as Jack resumed watching his hands with hardly any interest and she finally looked away, exhaling frigidly. Her companion visibly cringed and briefly tapped his knuckles against his palm. "Uh--"

"Jack; j-just…go," She said. She wanted to be alone to consider what he had told her. He apparently hadn't thought that it would go this way. He stood up sheepishly and exited the bar, making the straightest path the could.

So he said no. He said _no_. In her mind, a little movie played that showed her freedom leaping out a window and smashing into a thousand pieces on the ground. She audibly groaned and dropped her head onto the table. What luck. She had had such high hopes, broken (and a hard lesson learned, that was--no more high hopes for her). She couldn't move, either. She didn't' have the will to move--despite the fact that her room was upstairs and she would have _much_ rather sulked in bed.

Several hours later, Sarah's head still adhered to the table (she would sometimes break her train of miserable thoughts to wonder if there were ridges pressed into her forehead from the wood table), Drew came looking for her, since she wasn't sitting on her corner.

"Pandora?" He asked. He looked around (she could see him out of the corner of her eye), then spotted her and sat down at the table with her. "What happened to _you_?"

"He said no," She replied, her voice maddeningly monotone.

"That Jack fellow?"

"…_Captain_ Jack." She may have been angry with him, but she felt it was a sort of duty to correct people. "And yes," She was sick of laying her head on the table now, so she lifted it and gingerly felt her forehead for marks and impressions (there weren't many).

Drew raised his eyebrows, his unusual mood coming about again, and he leaned back slightly. "Well. You're a smart girl, Pandora--you can figure out some way to get on that ship, permission or _no_ permission." He stood and apologized for needing to leave again, mocking bow included.

A few minutes later, she looked out the window--it was dark, clearly nighttime. She sighed, groggily pulling to her feet, and made her way to here room upstairs, where she collapsed on the bed and fell asleep.

The next morning, the first think she vaguely remembered was her conversation with Jack. Several seconds later, she remembered what Drew had said, strange as it may have been;

"You can figured out some way to get on that ship, permission or _no_ permission."

True, with enough time, she could think up some form of a daring and brilliant plan to get her aboard the Black Pearl, but she seemed to recall Jack telling her that they would be leaving soon, and soon, even unspecified as it was, didn't give her much time to devise a scheme.

She trudged down the stairs, out the door, and over to her corner, where she sat, staring longingly at the Black Pearl. As she tried to think of a method of sneaking on board, an almost completely irrelevant thought surfaced; was she still in love with Jack? Of course not, she never had been in the fist place. That was a lie. She wasn't _that_ angry with him--he had, after all, explained _why_, and it _had_ been a good reason…sort of. But she didn't want to talk to him, just the same.

She glanced over at the tavern where she usually met Jack (it was _not_ the same tavern as the one she slept in) and decided that she'd look to see it…just _maybe_ he was inside. She peered through the window.

He was.

She didn't go in.

Instead, she went and sat back down. Disgruntled, she cupped her chin in her palms and stared determinedly at the _only ship_ in the port. _Sixteen-year-olds shouldn't have to go through this kind of stress, really._ She remembered thinking that.

She spent the rest of the day wracking her brain for some trace of an idea, then couldn't stand the noise of the crowds in drunken stupors any longer (and it was getting dark and difficult to see where she was going--she would rather have not run into some violent and/or hallucinating guy who would mistake her for a whore), so she traveled back to her room in the tavern. She stayed up all night--she _had_ to get away from Tortuga, and the Pearl _and_ Jack were her ticket out.

It was nearly midnight by the time she sat upright in realization. She _knew_ what she could do. It seemed so obvious, so hilariously _obvious_, that she almost died of embarrassment that she hadn't thought of it earlier. Smiling, overly pleased, she pulled the covers up and fell asleep, eagerly waiting the next morning.

When the sun shone through her windows, she practically _leapt_ out of bed and rushed downstairs, hoping Drew was already there.

Sure enough, there he was, sitting in the corner, twiddling his thumbs and watching something on the ceiling with interest equivalent to a soldier perusing the corset racks. She called to him and he looked at her, glad that he didn't have to focus on the ceiling anymore. She rushed down the remaining stairs and sat down across from him at the table.

"I've got it!"

"What…??"

"I know how to get on the Black Pearl!"

He stared at her as if he didn't understand, then he underwent a miraculous change and realized what she meant. "Oh! Well now, didn't I say you could think of something?" She smiled at him brightly, then he smiled back jovially. He wasn't strange today--he was the Drew she had met seven months ago. The Drew she _liked_. "So, what's the plan?"

"Well, he won't take women, see? 'Cuz of the crew thinking' on 'em being back luck, aye? Well, I can disguise myself as a boy an' get hired _that_ way!" In her excitement, her speaking became far sloppier.

Drew's reaction was not positive…well, not really. When she said it, he, at first, looked astonished, then disinterested--and in the second phase, the weird mood came back. He watched her with an odd look for several seconds, then he seemed to revert back to old Drew. "Pandora…you can't do _that_…you'll get caught! 'Tis a fool's errand!"

"No, I won't!" She insisted, strands of blonde hair falling in her face as she got herself worked up. "And…even if I do, it won't matter to me--I'll do _anything_ to get away from Tortuga!" Drew didn't seem to agree, but she was set on getting his approval--he was her only friend, after all (if you didn't count Jack, who was _sort of_ a friend). He sighed.

"You _will_ get caught."

"I won't." She stared him in the eye and both of them started to smirk in a need to laugh. They had a long history of laughing in staring contests.

He went through the change again. His smirk turned icy and he watched her with his iron eyes. What had _happened_ to him? "We'll just have to see--won't we?"

A slow nod from Sarah, then he stood, same excuse, same familiar bow, foreign attitude. She puzzled for a moment over his behavior, then discarded the ambition in order to go make herself all boyish. She knew not how much longer the Black Pearl would be there, at the port, so she had to work fast.

As soon as she looked reasonably boyish (mind you, enough to be mistaken four times for a male), she hurried outside to look for Jack.

In her memory, it was all pretty much a blur where she talked to Jack, but she remembered that, after giving him her fake name (James Morlen), he hired her willingly and she joyfully boarded the Black Pearl.

(Again, many of the details were unclear from here on, for only several key parts stuck out in her mind.) She traveled with the Pearl for a mere two weeks at sea before she was struck by her misfortune--again.

She was sitting in her quarters (_very_ small), tugging boredly at her bandana that hid most of her hair, when she heard a loud, harsh knock at her door. She scrambled to hide her hair in the bandana, then she shouted for them to come in, trying her best to sound masculine while shouting frantically.

Just her luck, Barbossa stepped in. There was something she never liked about Barbossa--something that always made her feel a bit nervous and cold, though she didn't know why. In any case, he had been especially frightening this afternoon. He stopped walking about a food away from her, a set expression on his stony face.

"B-Barbossa," She addressed him, attempting to hide her apprehension. She felt it very lucky that she was only playing a sixteen-year-old boy, for her faux voice was not very good, in all honesty. While she stood in the same room with him she felt as if he could smell her fear, which made her shiver. "D'you need something…?"

"Why yes, I do. I think that you and I _need_ to have a conversation with the captain, Mr. Morlen--" He paused, watching her with eyes like frost. "--or…should I say Miss Warren?"

She froze. What did he say? 'Miss Warren?' How did he know? How did he find out? A million questions flooded her brain as she struggled to find a reply to his subtle accusation of her femininity. "Ah--what? What exactly do you mean?" _He can tell--he can tell I'm lying…oh geez, he can tell…shootshootshootshootshoot, don't _screw up_ Sarah!_ She could tell by his face that he could see through her feeble disguise and her even _more_ feeble retort.

"Oh, ye _know_ what I mean, miss. Don't try to fool me," He made no move toward her; Instead, he just stood stock still, a disdainful smile making creases in his already heavily-lined face. "I know who you really are."

She narrowed her eyes, still averse to dropping her masquerade. "You can't prove it," She challenged, her voice fairly harsh. She suddenly became aware of the agonizing silence closing in around them. Barbossa sighed, still smiling.

"I don't need to prove it--your 'friend'--" He accented this. "--back on short, that Drew fellow, so kindly informed me shortly before we set sail."

"…_What_??" She abruptly lost her veil of security and became Sarah again. Her voice was a terribly horrified whisper. Drew had sold her off?

Barbossa stepped forward and seized her by the arm before she could react. "Shall we?" It wasn't until he began to drag her out of the room and to the stairs to the uppermost deck that she began to resist and pull away from him with cries of dissent. She could hardly believe that a. she was about to lose her chance of being even relatively near Jack for even a small amount of time and b. that Drew had told Barbossa--it was about this point where she suddenly had the urge to find her 'friend' and rip his throat out with her bare hands. Possibly bare _hand_.

It caught everyone's attention when she was pulled by Barbossa to Jack, who was standing casually at the helm. He practically threw her on the ground in front of the captain, who looked extremely perplexed, and gestured to her. "Well Jack, we have ourselves a stowaway woman," He said.

"What?" Jack replied, eyes moving from Sarah on the ground then to Barbossa then back again. He didn't seem to understand.

Barbossa stepped forward and pulled her bandana off, letting her shoulder length, old-straw-colored hair fall. Jack's eyes widened considerably and half of the crew began to mutter incessantly. She cringed and closed her eyes, hoping she'd disappear. Okay, maybe getting caught was worse than she thought.

"…Sarah?"

"…Yeah…actually, it's Pandora…" She muttered in reply. She opened her eyes again. She couldn't see Barbossa, but she was sure he looked overly pleased. _I knew he had it in for me,_ She thought acidly. _I knew it all along._ She _had_ assumed it, yes.

"Well? What's yer decision, Jack?" Barbossa asked eagerly.

"…_Captain_, I ask you, _captain_." Jack looked at his first mate with a look of suspicion-tinted worry. "And…my decision…" He glanced at Sarah, who hadn't bothered to stand up, then he looked around at the crew, all of whom were staring at him expectantly. Sarah awaited his final ruling with dread. "…well, I see no problem having her on the Pearl, do you?"

"Wh-what?" Another outbreak of rumor-spreading exploded on deck, mixing a background of hushed voices. Barbossa could obviously hardly believe his ears--Sarah could tell from him voice. "But Ja--er, captain, the--she's--" He stammered tensely. He hadn't planned it this way, oh no, not at all.

"Is it a problem?" Jack must have been more sober than usual, for he was certainly more decisive today--and bold to boot, though he was pretty bold when drunk, too.

"N-no…but…" Before he could finish objecting, Jack held up one hand and closed his eyes.

"I know, bad luck…but give this a thought--we've had her on the ship for around two weeks, aye? And nothing bad has happened since she came aboard, so it shouldn't make a difference if she's here disguised or not, judging by that fact, savvy?" It _was_ a reasonable theory. And a true one, at that. More murmuring from the crew, and several began to nod unenthusiastically.

"It does ring true," A man said. Sarah recognized him as Bootstrap Bill (she had talked to him once or twice).

Barbossa flashed dirty looks to the observing crowd (she could see that he was doing _that_, at least, from her view from the floor), then turned back to Jack. "I suppose you're right, _captain_," He admitted disdainfully. She took this time to turn around and actually _look_ at him; his expression was full of veiled hate--was he really _that_ upset about Jack keeping her? Or was he always that way? Did Jack notice? How many questions could one such creepy and unbearably tall man be the source of?

After the crew finally stopped watching the scene at the helm, and Barbossa strode off, disgruntled, Jack stepped over to her and pulled her up to her feet. As soon as she was standing, she discarded thoughts of him being sober--she could smell the rum on his breath (as well as see his wonderful dental hygiene as he grinned at her)…so she didn't know why he was being so…whatever he was being when regarding this matter. Why was he allowing her to stay?

"…Thanks, Jack."

"Sure, love." An awkward silence, then he returned to doing what he was doing (staring intently at his compass) before his first mate's interruption. "Although, I must say it was pretty insane of you to dress up as a man to get on this 'ere ship." She laughed. It sure was.

Things sort of changed when everyone knew she was a woman--people avoided her, mostly, but some ignored her gender and treated her somewhat fairly (not many--but Bootstrap was one of them…I know what you're thinking, and, yes, that's _partly_ where Will got that rational sort of trait). But a tribute to her horrendous bad luck, however, lightening struck again--and not too long after the first incident.

She went to bed one night, around a week or so after the whole Barbossa thing, after another day of casual glances mingled with glares and shunning and, while she slept, she had the strangest dream. You see, she had a dream that she was being carried somewhere. It was a bumpy ride, though she seemed to be blindfolded during the dream sequence, so she couldn't see where she was being taken, but she remember quite specifically that she was dropped some place that was soft and rather sandy--a beach, perhaps? The dream wasn't important to her--just a dream right? Of course. It dissipated quickly after she was at her destination (dream-wise) and she thought nothing more of it.

Until she woke up.

She opened her eyes not to the ceiling of her quarters (again, _very_ small), but to an open sky. She frowned, sat up, and took a long look around.

She was on an island, and the Pearl was nowhere in sight. This, generally, took a bit of time to register in her sleep-drugged brain, but as soon as she realized that she was _alone_ on said island, and there was pistol with _one shot _ sitting next to her, she felt her anger surge once more.

Jack had betrayed her. "That…_backstabbing_--!!" She slammed one sand-crusted fist into the dunes. It seemed to her that she couldn't meet a single friend without them turning around and deceiving her. Again, her luck had let her down--not that she was surprised. She had the _worst_ luck of _anyone_ she had ever met, and that was saying something.

She couldn't recall how long she stayed on that little island, waiting for someone, anyone (though some sort of Navy ship would be unfortunate, as she was, truly, a pirate), to come take her back, as she preferred not to keep those painful thoughts in her memory, but she did remember that she somehow ended up in Tortuga--again (once more I'll state--the absolute _worst_ luck)--sitting on her street corner and sleeping uncomfortably in her tavern room that always seemed to be open for her. She could remember finding a note waiting for her from Drew that said he had found a job on a ship and he would be gone when she got the note; indeed, he _was_ gone. What a horribly clever man he was.

It wasn't so much that she wound up in Tortuga again, the exact place that she had been trying to escape, or that Drew _and_ Jack had deceived her (though that was a good deal of the source of the turmoil, as well), but mostly that she was alone again. She had already been abandoned as a child (state of loneliness #1), then taught by a boy, whom she couldn't remember, until she was six, which was when he left (state of loneliness #2), and now she had been cast away by her only friends to sit in the rain with nothing to her name (her possessions were still on the Pearl). It was then, in her sixteenth year (an age that I have mentioned far too many times to be healthy), that she learned one of the hardest lessons of her life; people will do _anything_ to get what they want--and it was a rule that she, from that point on, lived her life by, for the most part.

She couldn't stand to reminisce anymore. She opened her eyes to find herself back where she started, eleven years after Tortuga and who knows how many miles away, many of the people who had been sitting around when she had come in, gone. She looked around--the waitress of sorts/whore who was wandering around with nothing to do gave her an odd glance, then continued meandering. She looked out the window--dark, of course. She hadn't realized just how long she had been sitting there. She was sure that people had probably thought she was dead or something.

She sometimes wished she was.

She blearily asked the bartender if she could stay at the tavern, and he showed her to her room, which looked stunningly like her old room in…Tortuga…which was a place she would have rather not thought about. As she lay in bed, she honestly hoped that the rest of her week away wouldn't be as depressing as this.

She spent the next five days exploring her sector--seeing the sights, talking with the street folk, eating from vendors (…without paying), and generally trying to make the best of things--and it worked. She almost completely forgot about her past--at least for a while, she could run away from that nightmarish year.

The sixth day was both the best day and the worst of the week. Around the middle of the day, she was strolling down the street when she saw someone she could hardly believe was standing in front of her--Jack.

She dropped her jaw and stared at him, his back facing her. She stood there for almost two minutes before he turned around and noticed her. "Sarah…there you are."

"What are you doing here? You're supposed to be…over there…someplace…" She gestured nonspecifically to a direction she hoped was north. Jack gave her a clueless look and shrugged.

"I was bored. Uhh…and I wanted to address something t'you." She rolled her eyes and sighed. He certainly wasn't who she was hoping to talk to that day. And he certainly wasn't who she had been expecting to see, either. She looked away and watched the port, trying to convey her obvious I-don't-care attitude as to what he was going to talk to her about. "…I…uh…wanted to give you the chance to come on the Black Pearl…now. Without Talia and I bargaining you back and forth." She couldn't believe he was bringing this up. The one week she had away from him and he was barging into her serenity and asking questions that would no doubt anger her to a frightful extent.

"Who do you think you are?" She asked, her eyes narrowed. "Why do you keep asking me this?"

He drew his lips together thoughtfully. "Uh. Be…cause?"

"Oh. Good excuse." Another roll of her eyes. "It's getting really irritating, you asking all the time. I hope you fail to help Talia--I'd _much_ rather stay with her. And _she's_ a crazy, homicidal wench." She almost felt sorry for him as she insulted him to his face--almost. She was really just getting worked up over nothing. He didn't ask her _that_ often.

"Can't you listen to me for once?"

"I will once you tell me why you keep asking!"

"You're hopeless!"

She turned around, throwing her hands into the air. "_You_ are!! Why is it so important that I join your merry crew? Tell me _that_, and I'll consider coming aboard." She turned around again to watch him and he hesitated in his reply. "Well? Why am I such a vital person to you?" At his silence, she turned away again. She couldn't put up with this kind of frustration. She had low tolerance. She started walking away.

"Well--maybe it's because I love you!"

She froze in mid-step.

He…whated her?

That was a phrase no one had ever addressed to her, in particular.

She turned around for a second time in that conversation. She narrowed her eyes in confusion, her eyes watching the desperate look on his face. "…Are you…just saying that?" She paused. "And no lies this time."

He shook his head. "I'm not just saying it."

"How can I trust you?"

"You can't."

The two of them stood in silence for an extended amount of time, just thinking and wondering what the other was thinking, which was a difficult task, indeed. Finally, Sarah dropped her gaze and half-smiled at the ground.

"…I'll see you tomorrow then," She said, knowing full well that there was one more day of her vacation left. He agreed.

As she trudged 'home' to her room above the tavern, she felt happier than she had in eleven years. Perhaps…things would turn out alright…and maybe…her luck was taking a turn for the better. She smiled and looked forward to tomorrow--she finally felt that she was accepted, at least by _one_ person.

And she even looked forward to the day after when she would see Talia and the rest of the Death Lily crew (though she wouldn't admit it to the mad, mad, mad, mad captain--or basically anyone else). She hadn't known she'd miss them until she was separated from them for even a mere seven days.

Life was so strange.


	10. Misery Entirely Loathes Company

Talia couldn't have been happier to be away from the group--the last thing on earth that she would have liked to see was anyone familiar walking so much as across the street. But there was no one, and almost nothing could spoil her rare good mood.

Almost nothing.

Not two minutes after she had gotten good and far away from her comrades, she ran right into her least favorite stalker--Drew. He stood smugly in the center of her path, his nearly brown hair combed neatly. She froze, her eyes widened, then she groaned. He body hunched over and her shoulders sagged as if she had a very heavy burden on her back. "Just my luck." She reached up and covered one half of her face with a pale hand.

"Talia! What a pleasure!" She beamed. She was aware that, though he acted it, he had not just recently noticed her--he had most definitely been watching her from much farther off, making sure that he would be in this town at the same time as she was. He seemed to do that a lot. _Oh yes, a pleasure. Especially since you _planned_ to meet me here._ "What brings you to this little providence?"

"A good question, but not one that I feel obligated to answer. Good day, sir." She nodded to him after she had straightened back up and composed herself. She turned on her heel and began to walk away. Elated as she was about her no-Jack-no-Sarah-no-anything week, Drew had already begun to spoil it. Knowing he was here, on the very island that she had hoped to escape from him on, made her throat want to collapse, fall into her stomach, and force her digestive system to plummet to her toes. Which she also hoped would not actually happen.

As Drew watched her turn, the sun catching in her blazing hair, a strange smile played across his lips. "Yes, indeed. A good day, Captain." He said, closing his eyes and clasping his hands behind his back.

Though the village could have likely qualified for most boring town in all history, Talia found great pleasure in aimlessly wandering the streets in the east section (she purposefully avoided the port, north, and west sections, where there were people she knew hanging around) and watching the hapless peasants roam the walkways, hand baskets verily adhered to the crook of their arms. Her unusual state of miraculous joy would most likely end tomorrow after the insanity and madness wore off, but she didn't mind at the moment. She would continue to explore the area, then she would find a place to sleep--the Death Lily was now protected by an imaginary barrier that would stun Talia if she got too close…or so it seemed to her--and find something to entertain her tomorrow.

She asked a few people questions about the town, bought some cheap merchandise, and ate some street vendor food, which cost around the same price as the cheap merchandise. She wasn't sure which was sadder--that the merchandise was about as expensive as some spare boxes, or that she food cost the same amount.

When it began to get dark, eerie bluish moonlight flooding the area, Talia began looking for a place to stay for the night. The tavern--which there were many. At least one in each section…it was a large town, albeit boring, you know--was shedding bright, warm light onto the cobblestones through its windows, and it seemed quite welcoming to the young Captain.

Of course she fit in at a tavern--she was Irish, after all. She hung around at the tables for a bit, ecstasy somewhat dampened now that the day was ending. And she secured her safety in the building after an unsuspecting man hit on her and, true to Talia's style, he wound up missing the top of his ear and a pinkie finger. After that, no one bothered her, and as an added bonus, she got a room very easily.

It wasn't a very heavily furnished room--it had the essentials; a bed, a dresser, a few bottles on the window sills for decoration. There were two windows--they were on the opposite side of the room as the bed, and let in an adequate amount of light, or so she assumed--she couldn't tell, mostly due to the fact that it was dark, and no light was coming in at the moment. Sitting down on the bed, she surveyed the room once more. For just a moment, she felt a twinge of lament, perhaps missing the occasional accidental-burst-in-on-her-room-preceding-vicious-beat-down. But it was only a twinge, and she lay down on the bed, her mouth curved in a very satisfied smile. It was going to be a good week.

- - - - -

Talia was awakened the next morning by sunlight flooding her room with oceans of gold and ivory. Squinting, she headed back downstairs to the noisy, rowdy bar. The bar where everyone stared at her with strange looks. The bar where everyone avoided her. The bar where she decided that she wouldn't stay long, and so she soon left the tavern and headed to the large, nearby building that she had first noticed on her excursion through the area.

The first thing she saw as she entered through the large front doors was…well…an entryway with another set of doors. The first thing she saw after _those_ doors was a stage with big, red, smooth-looking curtains edging it. Scattered about the stage floor was a large grouping of people, presumably actors, rehearsing, or so it seemed. In truth, it hardly looked organized--the actors and actresses were all off on their own, working on separate scenes, arms flailing around dramatically and voices stretching to the ceiling--in other words, absolute chaos. In orderly rows in front of the stage was seating for an audience, lined up in such a way that there was a large aisle down the center of the seats. The few windows that they had in the building were wide open, so there was clear morning light draping across the floor and chairs. And there was a back wall. But it wasn't really the back wall--behind the wall was "back stage" where the performers prepared and the dressing rooms were--likely the home of more mayhem, judging by the people onstage.

No one noticed the young, flaming haired woman run backstage, past the preoccupied men and women in the spotlight, and no one noticed her slip into a dressing room behind the "back wall."

She had entered out of curiosity--to find out what kind of clothing the dramatists wore while assuming the role of a make-believe persona. But when she had closed the door behind her, she became suddenly entranced by the many colors of costumes lining the room in piles (clearly the owner of the dressing room was not a tidy one). After quickly combing the room for people, she began rummaging through the piles with glee.

It just so happened that some of Sarah's luck rubbed off on Talia, because soon after this, the occupant of the room stepped through the door. Though she made little noise, Talia heard her enter and spun around, caught red-handed. She recognized her as one of the actresses practicing--she had hit a fellow actor over the head with a prop, and Talia had not been sure whether it was part of the scene or if she had just been angry.

The woman said nothing. She didn't dart out of the room, she didn't scream. She merely clasped her hands behind her back.

"Looking for something?"

Her eyes widened for a moment as she wracked her brain for an excuse. "N-no." She figured that her usual attitude wouldn't get her out of this, so she became her alter-ego--the annoyingly innocent young girl who's confused and abused. It usually fooled people.

"Oh. Well then, why are you in here? In my dressing room?"

"…" Talia stared. "Umm…" She looked at her feet, which she was shuffling around to look shy. "…Your clothes are just so pretty…seeing them made me really want to pursue my dream--to become an actress…" Her real answer is as follows; _I like your clothes, you wench. Speak a word and lose a limb._

"Ah. I see. Well…that doesn't…really…justify you being in my dressing room…also, if you want to be an actress, get a job acting, and if you want to get a job acting, go talk to the man onstage in front. However, I don't believe there are any more spots…" Talia stared again. There was a hint of "high-and-mighty" in the woman's voice, and it was beginning to irritate her. It was truly too bad that she couldn't just stab her and get it over with, or so she thought. "I suppose you could be _my_ understudy…"

"Oh, _could_ I?" Talia's face broke out in a very bright smile. Though she had been lying about wanting to become an actress--she was perfectly happy with her life of piracy--she was really quite a good actress already. "That would be _wonderful!_" She grabbed the woman's hand. In reality, she would rather kill herself that be this woman's understudy, but at least it would keep her out of trouble for the time-being.

"Oh, alright. I don't really _need_ an understudy…and if I did, _you_ wouldn't be my first choice…" The more she talked, the more her remarks sounded like fingernails on a chalkboard. Talia was doing her best to keep her eye from twitching. "but you'll have to do." _Even if my eye _was_ twitching, she's so blinded by herself that she probably wouldn't notice._ "You'll need work though," Talia nodded rigidly. "my acting skill is terribly difficult to reach, as is my beauty, and you're _obviously_ quite far off on matching _my_ looks. And your hair! It's so…stringy!"

And then she snapped. She may have been thick-skinned, but _no one_ messed with Talia's hair.

She blacked out at this moment, but when she woke up, she saw the woman dead on the floor, and when she saw the blood on her hands and knife, she could guess what had happened. At first she was almost overjoyed. No more annoying, conceited actress woman! And then she realized that someone was bound to discover the body. _Better think up an excuse, Talia._ She thought, blankly cleaning her blade on the first blouse she could find. She buried the shirt beneath a nearby heap of clothes, then stood up. Judging by the footsteps growing louder, someone was coming. "Oh good." She said. "Improvisation is good."

She had no story.

Several men (actors that she recognized from the anarchistic rehearsal) burst through the door. _The woman must have screamed or something. Blasted girl._ She thought. Men don't just burst through the doors of women's dressing rooms unless they have a very, very good reason.

"Dear God…" The man in front crossed himself. "What happened here?" This was clearly the man in charge. The two others behind him rushed in and knelt beside the dead woman. Talia opened her mouth.

"…I'm a friend of her--I came in here looking for her, and found her like this on the ground."

"So it was you who screamed?" One of the men on the floor asked. She nodded. "Could have sworn it sounded like Jesse…" He gestured to the dead woman. _Okay, her name is Jesse. Good. Alright._

"What do we do? Jesse's the main character! _And_ the only woman working. Now she's…" The other man on the floor glanced at Jesse, and shuddered.

Talia said nothing. Though there were a _lot_ of things that she _could_ have said, she kept her mouth shut, for fear of what might come out.

The head guy thought for a moment, then pointed at Talia. "You. Can you act?" She nodded, almost forgetting that she was being her alter-ego. She clasped her hands behind her back. "Hmm…you'll have to do. Welcome to the group, miss. What's your name?"

"…Talia Marsh." She lied. She didn't want to use her real last name--she was a well known pirate, and would rather have not spoiled her current escape from danger, or rather, getting caught.

"Talia Marsh. Okay, why don't you come with me and I'll explain the plot of the play." He didn't seem too aggrieved at the death of Jesse. Perhaps he felt the same way about her as Talia.

She soon discovered that, in the play, she would be playing a governor's daughter, kidnapped by pirates. Basically, all she had to do was scream, talk a little bit, then get saved by some guy. And if all went well, it would be played the day before she had to catch up with her friends. What luck.

Of course she spent a half an hour trying to convince the head guy to let her be a pirate instead, but since she got no where, she gave up and started reading through her three lines.

Rehearsal ended late, so she immediately headed back to the tavern after it finished, where she fell asleep almost the second she hit the bed. She could do anything from riding horses in a big dress to rigging sails on the Death Lily, even to putting up with mister creepy-stalker-Drew-man, but acting, or rather, living through the madness that is rehearsal, really took it out of her.

- - - - -

She managed to get some breakfast the next morning, though she ate it at the tavern instead of the street near the vendor where she salvaged it. Only one person spoke to her, and it was an odd, Spanish man who continually flipped his glossy black hair out of his face. In other words, he spent ten minutes non-verbally hitting on her. After she blew him off royally, he revealed to her that he would be playing the guy who would save her in the play. It didn't change her attitude toward him, but at least she knew who he was.

Soon after she finished eating, he insisted on escorting her to the theatre, which she actively protested against--she ended up walking with him anyway. She felt pretty miserable about having to be within five feet of him, but on the other hand, she managed to make it boring for him as well by saying absolutely nothing and staring at him intently. By the time they reached the stage inside the theatre, he had begun to distance himself from her in a very large way.

She was satisfied.

Rehearsal started almost as soon as they entered, and this time it wasn't so discombobulated. Talia already knew what she was supposed to do, so she did quite well while most others were asking what to do in the middle of a scene. The strange Spanish man (his name was Miguel) was a fairly decent actor, but he often overacted. He also avoided Talia whenever possible, which wasn't very often since they were the main characters and their characters were in love. Talia, however, spent her spare time correcting the actors playing the pirates, which she was very sure annoyed the life out of them. This was how the day went, and how the next day began--but it didn't end the same as the day before.

It was about the middle of the day--the window drapes were half-drawn, the curtain was just opening on a new act, and Talia was going to be in yet another scene with Miguel. She stood in the middle of the stage, tapping her foot as she waited for her partner.

"I quit." His Spaniard voice said as he stuck his head out from behind the curtain. "I quit, no way I am going to work with her." He pointed at Talia dramatically, then turned and left. The back door shutting became very audible a few seconds later.

"Oh that's _wonderful_." The head guy exclaimed, throwing his hands into the air. "What now? A plague of locusts??" He was referring to the fact that Miguel was the star of the play. Talia smiled faintly and hid her mouth with the back of her hand. If there was no star then…

"Oh dear, I suppose the play will have to be canceled…" She sighed, disguising her enormous glee. "What a shame." And then a man in the audience (there were a few people sitting and watching them practice) stood on his feet.

"If I may be so bold," He walked out of his row and toward the stage, where he was quite visible in the light. Talia's lips drew together _Oh…not you…_ She thought. "I could fill in for your lost actor."

As if by fate, the man was Drew. And he smiled broadly at Talia. She wasn't sure if he was just doing this to be around her, or if he really thought that she was upset about the play being canceled. She opened her mouth to say something, but the head guy interrupted her.

"What a life saver you are! Brilliant! What's your name, my good man?"

"Drew Amone." He said, bowing. He stepped on stage and walked right over to Talia. "Hello, dear Talia. I never expected to see _you_ here."

"You've become quite monotonous lately."

He handed her a rose from behind his back. "For you." She rolled her eyes and snatched the flower.

"Oh," The head guy happened to look over at that very moment. "So you two know each other?"

"Yes! Of course, we've known each other _forever!_"

"No. I've never met him in my _life_."

"Don't be silly, Talia, don't you remember me?"

"…No."

Drew clapped her on the back. "Ah, she jests! What a riot!" Talia was stunned to realize that Drew actually believed that she was joking.

__

Dear mother of God, help me. She sighed and folded her arms across her chest. The head guy believed Drew, not her, which meant…well, she wasn't sure, but she knew it wouldn't be pretty. Perhaps pretty for Drew, but not for her. She tugged slowly at her bandana. This was going to be a long week.

The head guy clapped his hands enthusiastically. "Wonderful! Jolly good! Now you won't have a problem with that kiss scene, Talia!"

__

Snap.

"What?"

Normally, Talia's outburst in an occasion such as this would be mild on the gauge of Ms.-Frost's-violent-reactions, but it was a combination of the cheery sound in the head guy's voice and the surprised, yet pleased look on Drew's face that made her nearly blow her top. She stormed past Drew and into the boss' face.

"I do _not_ remember _any_ kissing scene." Her long hair hung near her shoulders in somewhat tangled tresses. Her face was flushed, and her eyes were shooting sparks. The man was silent. "_Where_ did it come from?"

"Oh…well…I took it out because I figured that you wouldn't want to…kiss Miguel…but since you're friends--" At this point, Talia made a very unladylike sound. "--with Drew, I'm bringing it back!"

She stared. "…I _hate_ him!!"

"Hate is a very strong word. Besides, it's better to kiss someone you know than a complete stranger."

"I would rather kiss a rampant, vicious _murderer_ than that man!" She exclaimed. A lock of crimson hair slapped her in the face as she jerked her head while speaking.

The head guy was hardly paying attention now. "You're overreacting. It--he's not that bad." He watched as the remaining players began to review their lines separately, causing a great and familiar ruckus. "Take it as a personal request, from me to you."

"Well, I'm disinclined to acquiesce to your request." She replied hotly.

He waved at her, distracted, then walked off in a different direction. She clenched her fists and gritted her teeth. "Fine!" She turned and stomped off loudly to her dressing room, where she slammed the door and sat down in front of her moderately small mirror. She seized her brush and began to attack her hair. Her level on the violet reactions gauge was around seven or eight. Usually when Talia brushed her hair in such a harsh manner, it merely untangled it, but it appeared that today, her hair decided to get the comb stuck, and so Talia wound up with a brush hanging heavily off of a long dread. She stood, walked over to the wall, and dropped her forehead noisily onto it. Now, not only did she have to work with a complete imbecile, but she _also_ had to work with a maniac who followed her everywhere in some sort of freaky, love struck trance.

What a day.

When she calmed down, she sat down again and slowly worked the brush out of her hair, then she took several deep breaths and left the room.

"Welcome back, Miss Marsh," The head guy said as she re-entered on the stage. "ready to continue? Drew is already familiar with his lines, so we can pick up right where we left off." Talia shrugged, fingering her bottom left earring. It was right about now that she wished she hadn't gotten herself into this situation.

Somewhere during the end half of rehearsal, Talia glanced at Drew to see him smiling at her very happily from the other side of the stage. She smiled sarcastically, then turned away. He was creeping her out.

By the end of the day, Talia had counted Drew smiling at her sixteen times and she felt so relieved to be heading back to the tavern, that she nearly bounded out of the theatre.

"Remember--practice your lines! The play is in two days!"

- - - - -

Nothing really of interest happened the day after, Drew spent his free moments hitting on Talia, but the _next_ day…

The next day was the dress rehearsal.

- - - - -

Talia arrived at the theatre earlier than usual that day, and immediately headed to her dressing room to get changed. As she slipped into her elaborate outfit--a flowery, whitish gown with so many ribbons that, if you could eat them, it would feed a small community--she grumbled about how she hated dresses. She had hoped that the dance would be the last time she wore one. Eventually, the head guy and a hair dresser of sorts arrived and the hairdresser did her hair in some fancy, confusing way that made Talia dizzy whenever she looked in the mirror.

As the time passed and she waited for the other actors to arrive, she sat on the stage and listened to the head guy as he reminded her of what she was supposed to do--when to scream, when to faint, when to say her lines…things she already knew. He continued to do so even after people started coming--she didn't especially mind that he was reminding her. Not, at least, until after he began to repeat himself.

Then Drew entered and the annoying head guy left her to bug him instead. It seemed that her personal stalker was already dressed, so he gladly sat down and listened to the head guy list all of the things he had to do, as opposed to running backstage and getting changed, like everyone else.

What seemed like hours later, the head guy clapped and ordered everyone backstage. "Let's go! Not sure about you, but I'd like to get this rehearsal finished before nightfall!" This amused Talia, since he was, essentially, the one holding everyone up. Everyone shuffled backstage as the curtains began to drop, then the play began.

From what the head guy could see, this is how the play went:

Talia (or Mary, as she was called in the play) entered as the curtains drew back. She leaned against a wooden railing--a prop that a few men had built during the week.

"Oh…what a lovely day!" She said enthusiastically, motioning to the scenery ahead of her. "The people are happy, the ports are busy, the soldiers are on guard…and there's my father--hello Father!" She waved.

From off stage: "Hello Mary!"

Mary smiled wider. "Just a moment, I'll be right down!" Then the curtains closed. When they opened again, Mary and another man (her father) stood in the center of the stage.

"There's someone here to see you, Mary." Her father (also the governor) said as Mary stood silently, listening.

"Oh! Really?" She clapped, jumping a little. The father nodded, motioning toward the curtain closest to him.

"Yes. Come in!" Just as he said this, Drew (also called Edward) walked in, smiling and carrying a flower. Mary giggled and fluttered her eyelashes.

"Edward! What a wonderful surprise!"

"Mary!"

The two _obvious_ lovers hugged and the father stepped back toward the scenery, which was painted onto a large board to look like a courtyard littered with trees and stone sculptures. Edward handed Mary the flower, which was a yellow rose (The true Talia shuddered--she hated yellow). She took it from him and petted it lovingly for a moment.

"Governor!" A soldier ran in and the father/governor jumped, startled. "Pirates have landed at our port!" Everyone on stage make a look of terrible fright, and Edward quickly embraced Mary.

"Mary, go inside. Lock the doors." Mary looked at her father as she moved away from her love, then she looked at Edward.

He made a dramatic pose, looking off stage, then said determinedly, "I'll fight them." Mary put a hand on her mouth, timidly, then ran off stage in the opposite direction. The curtains closed again, and there was a loud shuffling behind the red barrier. A few minutes later, the opened yet again onto a scene, this one with a good amount of people. Edward was sword fighting with a pirate wearing a clichéd costume, and about three other pirates were fighting with soldiers. But this was only one half of the stage--the other half was Mary at the mansion that she lived in. The whole time while they were fighting pirates, she was frozen, then the fight scene froze, and she began. She hastily locked the doors and stood in the hall, looking around, frightened. Then there was a knock at the door, making a fake, woody sort of sound. Mary turned.

"Who could that be…?" She walked to the door and slowly opened it. She jumped back just as a pirate stepped in, grinning.

"Greetin's, Miss gov'na." He slurred in a British tainted accent. The British's accent sounded a bit flat, in Talia's opinion, but she had to emulate it to be Mary, so she wasn't complaining.

Mary screamed as loud as she could, then the pirate grabbed her and dragged her out the door and off the stage. Then the fight scene continued. Edward was fighting when he saw Mary being dragged off (or so we assume--he was just looking off stage, really).

"Mary!" He shouted, running off stage in the direction he was looking, and cueing the close of the curtains. When they, yet again, opened, the scenery had changed to a port with a large pirate ship floating off shore, the detail in the painting lacking a bit, and on stage was Mary being pulled across the length of the floor by the British pirate, screaming and struggling. As the two of them disappeared behind the other curtain, Edward appeared on stage, dropping his sword. "Nooo!! Ma-a-a-ary!" He cried, dropping to his knees, then the curtains closed for a final time during that act.

The incredibly boring next act (the head guy, also the writer, wasn't very good at writing plays, obviously) went quite slowly--Talia nearly missed her screaming points as she fought the urge to fall asleep on the spot. It seemed like two days had passed when the second act finished and everyone began to ready themselves for the third act--the act that she was dreading.

The curtains opened onto Mary on the pirate ship, about to walk the plank. She looked frightfully back at the pirates behind her. The captain grinned. Just as she was about to jump, Edward _amazingly_ jumped on board. He laughed and began slashing and fighting with the crew.

"Edward!" She smiled, turning to face the ship. After all of the pirates were either dead or had jumped off the side of the hip, Edward pulled Mary off the plank. "Thank you for saving me!" She beamed at him.

"What else could I do?" He smiled, too, then they kissed and the curtains closed (This scene was actually a lot longer than it seemed--the fight with the pirates was quite drawn out. And sort of boring, too.) The group didn't bother with curtain call--it was only the head guy watching and he was clapping rapidly and with great enthusiasm.

"Wonderful!" Talia was, once again, amused--of course it was wonderful. He wrote it! She smirked and shook her head, her loose hair falling into her sweat-stained face. Then she began to furiously scrub at her lips--she had just kissed Drew. She had just _kissed…Drew_. She shuddered, thinking about how she had to do it again tomorrow. No doubt he was happy, though. Just the look on his face--a look of mingled joy and lightheadedness--portrayed his opinion. _At least it'll be over soon. I'm not sure how much more of this I can take--I'd actually _rather_ be with Pandora and…Jack…wait…no, yeah, Jack._ She thought, walking to her dressing room.

After changing back into her _much_ more comfortable clothing, she returned to the stage, where some of the men were taking down the pirate ship and replacing it with the first scenery, the courtyard one. The people not setting up for tomorrow were sitting in the seats in front of the stage, waiting.

"Alright, everyone can go home. Eat something, get some sleep, tomorrow ill be a big day!" The head guy finally said. Talia walked out, heading to the street vendor that she favored when in came to…gaining free food. As she sat and ate her dinner, she looked toward the east section.

"Should I…?" She asked quietly. Sarah was over there somewhere. Should she go see what was up? Maybe exchange humorous anecdotes about the happenings of the week? The more she thought about it, the more she decided that, no, if she went, a fight would ensue, possibly getting them arrested, and wouldn't _that_ be a way to celebrate escaping conviction for murdering an actress. She finished up, then leisurely headed back to the tavern. She was going to need all the rest she could get if she wanted to even show up tomorrow.

The next day, though it was the day of the performance, was strangely calmer than the day before. Everyone was a good deal more ready now that they had practiced it for their boss while in their costumes, and even Talia was willing to do her best--well, good enough, at least. The head guy, though, was so jumpy and nervous that it was getting a little irritating to listen to him worry and mutter about things that could go horribly wrong.

She was so used to seeing large crowds of people staring at her that having to be on stage in front of such an expansive (…sort of) audience did not phase her in the least bit. She said her lines, screamed at the right times, and managed to survive through kissing Drew--again. The play wasn't a _huge_ success, but the people enjoyed it, and she could tell the head guy felt happy and proud. It wasn't a tearful goodbye, either. The head guy dismissed them (he was crying, however) and everyone headed home. The sun was still out, and Talia wasn't sure what to do with herself, so she visited the prison. She talked to some of the inmates, cased the joint in case she were to get caught, and generally had a decent time. Though she wouldn't admit it EVER, the couldn't wait to get back to the Death Lily.


	11. The Rejoining

Just as planned, the scattered crew arrived midday at the docks, looking relaxed and refreshed. Talia arrived first so she could oversee the arrival of everyone else. Among the last to come were Sarah and Jack, who had met in the East section and traveled to the docks from there.

"Well, you're late, aren't ye?" Talia stated, arms crossed. "And may I be the first to ask why you arrived together?" They looked at each other then looked back at Talia.

"Ah--" Sarah was the first to answer. "we…met each other on the way."

"Completely on accident," Jack added. He furrowed his brow and held his hand up casually. "Uh…don't kill us."

It looked as if she was considering it, then she shrugged. "We'll see," She replied. To their once-in-a-lifetime luck, Asher entered just then, which distracted Talia. She gravitated over to him and began complaining about the time he took getting to the gathering.

They set sail shortly after regaining all lost crew members and made way for the next pillage-and-go stop--some island that Talia swore she knew the name of, but couldn't quite recall.

It wasn't a trauma-riddled voyage this time--well, that's not really true for Jack (who _always_ seemed to get in trouble when he was on the Death Lily. Around the end of the first week, he was occupying his time by talking with Sarah (obviously), Adrian, and every once in a while, Asher, Ryan, and Chess. After some small talk between Jack, Sarah, and Adrian had turned into a rather quiet discussion that eventually ceased completely, Adrian asked where Asher was. They all looked around, but he was nowhere in sight.

"Probably in his room," Sarah said, pulling at a nail. "Why, d'you need to talk to him or something?"

"Well, I _did_ have a question, but--"

"I'll go get him." Jack offered. The captain's twin smiled and thanked him as the newly appointed messenger boy shuffled off to find the first mate.

He checked every room (including Sarah's, though he knew Ashe wasn't there), but to no avail, so, without thinking (or he most _definitely_ wouldn't have done it), he knocked on the single door he hadn't looked at yet. When there was no answer, he slowly opened the door--to his horror…it was Talia's room.

Evidently, she hadn't wanted to answer when he knocked, for there she sat, in the middle of the room, _brushing her long, exotically colored hair_. Her dark eyes immediately snapped over to him--he felt as if he had turned to stone and couldn't move.

"Jack," She said quietly. He could tell by the intensity of her voice that she was _very_ angry. Perhaps enraged. Perhaps so angry that if he didn't move soon, he'd be dead before he could think about it.

Since his view was obstructed by a wall, he couldn't tell what she was picking up when she reached over, but when her hand returned into sight his eyes must have been as big as dinner plates.

Why did Talia have a cleaver?

She stood up, screaming so loud that she could be heard by the fish in the sea, then dashed after him with eyes that blazed with unrequited fury.

Jack ran down the corridor of doors (that let to small rooms), hoping that she wouldn't catch up. He turned a corner, flattened himself against a wall, and desperately wished he hadn't looked in her room. Cautiously turning his head around the corner, he looked to see how close she was--she was practically standing next to him. He shouted frantically and began to run from her again, all the while Talia swung her overly large knife through the air.

Curious as to what the commotion was all about and why Jack had been gone for so long, Sarah and Adrian descended the stairs to check on the somewhat dysfunctional pirate and his search for the Death Lily's captain's first mate. They were, however, surprised to see Jack being pursued around the room by said captain, who was wielding a very wicked-looking utensil. They jumped back to avoid being knocked over as the cat and mouse ran by.

Since Talia's weapon made a decent amount of noise as she attempted to chop off a random vital part of Jack, and Jack, himself, made a sort of din as he cried out desperately, a goodly sized amount of people began to gather, wondering why exactly was going on. It even drew out Asher, who had been in one of the rooms Jack had checked (yes, you heard me…in the corner that you couldn't see if you looked through the doorway). He came out of the room looking slightly dazed, then he inched his way to Sarah and Adrian, who were standing in the same spot they had started in.

"What happened?" He asked.

"No idea," Adrian replied, "some invisibles are saying he tried to put a move on her--"

"He didn't," Sarah butt in. "trust me, the rage of Talia would be _greatly_ increased."

"Exactly. Which is why we figure he stumbled into her room, or something like that." He finished. Asher turned to watch for a moment, then turned back to the two.

"So, uh, why was he down here in the first place?"

"Looking for you," The answered simultaneously. Asher turned back to watch again.

Jack, getting to a wit's end (he was close enough already), threw open a door to someone's room and scampered inside, slamming the door shut. He waited anxiously, trying to think of what he could do to distract Talia, but all he could think of was that he had now, officially, seen how Talia kept her hair so nice and shiny. It was so unlike the horrifying Miss Frost, it was hilarious.

What _wasn't_ hilarious was when, at that moment, Talia burst through the door looking positively bloodthirsty. Such a touchy woman.

The chase continued for near fifteen hours (yes, _hours_) after that. Now, you may wonder just how much could happen in fifteen hours that wouldn't bore a person to death; I am here to inform you that it's a lot more than you'd think could happen in fifteen hours without boring a person to death--and just about all of it happened to them, too. In fact, so much happened in those five-and-ten _long_ hours, it would be insufferably tedious to describe such activities. For your sake, in the sincerity of my heart, I will refrain and skip ahead to a summary.

People began to get tired and creep carefully to their rooms, locking the doors so that Jack and Talia wouldn't burst haphazardly in. Even Sarah and Adrian, who were, without doubt, the most loyal observers, began to drift away to sleep, so they followed suit to the others and crawled in bed. Not too long after that, Talia succeeded in catching Jack, made him pay (though no one found out 'til morning), then headed to bed, leaving her prey cowering, shivering, in the corner below deck.

Jack was sitting near the edge of the ship when everyone wok up. Most came on board and stifled a laugh--Sarah especially. She didn't stifle it, though, she burst out laughing, leaving Jack with a heavy-lidded, bored, and aggravated look.

Talia had, in payment for stumbling into her room, removed one half of Jack's moustache. What a sight it was.

It certainly was good to be back.


	12. The Return of the Commodore

"Hmm." Talia was, for one reason or another, examining the map when Sarah awoke one morning. She was bent over it as if it were some kind of ancient code that she was attempting to decipher with the utmost determination. She brushed a few strands of hair out of her face and muttered something. Deciding it was best not to disturb her, Sarah headed up on deck, where Asher was currently in command at the helm. He gave her a small nod as she emerged. She spotted an open spot on the edge rail and went to lean on it, as customary.

She was soon joined by Adrian, also--pretty much--as customary. Well, if Talia wasn't with him, at least. There was nothing to talk about, and so they stood there in silence. It was a slow morning.

The sky was a cheery, overly vibrant blue, completely absent of could, and the sun was glaring down on to the faces of the crew. The sea splashed just below Sarah's line of vision, making crystal flourishes that flashed sunlight like a strobe. There were no islands in sight, and no ships, aside from the Black Pearl, following nearby. She sighed, breaking the silence.

"Kind of boring, eh?" Adrian said, attempting to make conversation. It was better than nothing, and Sarah agreed.

"G'morning." A voice said from behind them. They turned to see Jack standing there, smiling. His moustache had grown back by now (they had been at sea for quite a long time by now) and he was rocking lightly on his heels. "Where's Talia?" He asked.

"…Um, reading the map. Down below," Adrian replied, motioning to the stairs. "Why?"

"Oh, just asking." He said, stepping to the other side of Sarah and leaning on the edge. Sarah stepped away from the rail and stood independently, a little tired of leaning. Just as she did this, Talia emerged from below deck and looked around. After stopping the group standing by the edge, she approached them.

"Aye. We're close to Port Royal, that's about it," She stated coldly. She paused for a moment, then added, "I think." Jack clapped.

"Oh!" He grinned. "We should go! We could visit Mr. Turner and his lovely bride!"

"Who?"

"Ah. Right. My friends, William Turner and Elizabeth…eh…Swann? Or is it Turner now…" He explained, gesturing randomly. He looked toward the sky thoughtfully. "I haven't seen them in the _longest_ time."

Talia, too, looked thoughtful, then she exclaimed, "Oh, Bootstrap Bill's kid!" Jack turned to face very quickly.

"What?"

"Bootstrap Bill."

"How do you know who that is?"

"Me uncle told me. Told me all sorts of stories." She nodded, seeming distracted. Sarah and Adrian were having an amusing time watching Jack's face, which had the _strangest_ expression on it. He was sort of rigid at the moment.

"…Uncle? Wh-what was your uncle's name?"

"Hector Barbossa," She replied, crossing her arms. "Why?" Jack's eyes widened and his left one began to twitch. He laughed a little insanely. To be quite honest, Sarah's eyes grew larger as well.

"Oh look. Wow, Jack finally snapped," Adrian commented offhandedly. Talia frowned, confused.

"Jack? What?" She sounded very bewildered and quite annoyed. By now, she was a bit suspicious of Jack's behavior. Jack fell over backwards and everyone just sort of started at him. After a mew minutes, he sat up again.

"I'm okay," He said, as if someone had asked him. "Let's go to Port Royal, shall we?" Standing up, he began to walk away, but Talia seized him by the collar.

"Jack, did you know me uncle?"

"…Uhh…" She gave him a sharp jerk. "Yes. Yes I did. We were, uh, friends, but then one day we went our separate ways…and…er, he, uh…I never saw him. Again." He shied away from her currently lethal glare, hoping that she would soon let go, then she released him and walked toward Sarah.

"Sarah, did _you_ know me uncle?" Talia asked her. She looked up from her gaze at the floor and thought for a moment. Once again, she was sorely tempted to expose Jack for working with Barbossa and later killing him, but instead, she lied as well. "Oh. I met him once." Talia seemed to believe her easier than Jack, and so she nodded and headed back to where Asher was standing, observing quietly.

"Alright, to Port Royal then!" She announced.

- - - - -

From hearing so much about Port Royal on the way there, Sarah expected something a bit more…fantastic, perhaps, but instead, it was almost the same as any other Caribbean port town.

"So explain to me something Jack."

"Aye?"

"How exactly are we, pirates, going to get the attention of a governor's daughter and a blacksmith? …A blacksmith _married_ to said governor's daughter?"

"Well," Jack glanced at Sarah, then at Talia, who was standing nearby. "…That's where you two come in. You would, uh, go get them…dressed as peasant women."

Both of them advanced on Jack after realizing that they would have to wear dresses. Again.

"Oh no, not on your life!" Talia jabbed at his face with her index finger.

"_You_ wear the dress!" Sarah exclaimed. Jack stood between them, laughing nervously; he had known they would react this way. He wasn't even sure why he had suggested it.

"This is the last time, I promise!" He answered, attempting to keep them both in his sights--well, mainly Talia. He could pretty much handle whatever Sarah could deal out, but Talia getting violent would almost certainly mean death. He made a small mental note to choose his words and plans more carefully when around Miss TNT.

"Oh! A promise!" Talia began, eyes beginning to smolder. _Oh, I'm such an ignoramus…_ Jack shuddered. _I should have said, "We go in fighting, me hearties!" At least that would have made _her _happy. Augh…_ "And who in their right mind would believe_ your_ promises?"

"Well, who do you think I'm talking to? Neither of you are mentally stable." He replied--and just milliseconds after he said this, he knew he had make a mistake in doing so. Talia whipped out several knives and held them high above her head. Sarah, meanwhile, was accounting her current bad mood to Jack's suggestion, Jack's recent reply, and waking up on the wrong side of the womb at square one. Shaking off her guilty desire to see Jack as a shish kabob…again…she seized the captain's arm and reasoned with her.

"T-Talia, just drop it. Next time he does this, I'll _help_ you with gutting him, but just…hold off this time, alright?"

After a long pause from Talia's end, it looked as if she wasn't going to listen, then she slowly lowered her hand, still glaring at Jack, who looked relieved. Tediously, she replaced all of the knives back in their sheathes and crossed her arms.

"You win. For now." She sighed.  
"Wait--why can't you go, Jack?" Sarah asked. He turned his head to look at her, a bit startled. "You're just as capable as either of us and, most likely, much more entertaining in a dress." Talia snorted.

"...Ehh...heh heh, I'm a bit well-known here and, technically, so is my ship, now that I think about it. Anyway, if I were to so much as step foot in Port Royal, I've no doubt Norrington would on the spot," He replied. After a few more moments of silence, he added, "And besides--you'd never get me in a dress."

Sarah and Talia exchanged superior glances, then Talia spoke. "Alright, let's get this over with, so we can change and make you wear the dress."

- - - - -

Around an hour later, the two women were on there way to governor's manor, dresses and all. Jack had already explained how they were going to get in--the happy couple was hiring new maids and Miss Warren and Miss Frost were scheduled to apply for the job. That would get them inside, then the rest was up to them. That, as Talia so eloquently put it, probably wasn't the best idea. Sarah just laughed.

There was a strangely small crowd of women near the mansion, no doubt also there for the job application. They were gossiping happily and waiting to be called inside. Standing near the back, Talia had murmured to Sarah that being last would be less conspicuous in the notifying process. "You don't just tell someone to come with you while they're in the middle of something, eh?" She had said.

Sarah craned her neck to see above the crowd and in to the open doors where a woman in an elegant dress--no doubt Elizabeth--was calling another woman inside. The woman waved to her friends and parted with them. Immediately after her departure, the women began savagely spreading poisonous rumors about their friend. What wonderfully kind and trustworthy friends.

"The good news is she's in there," She said to Talia, who just shook her head and chuckled. With nothing to talk about, even the most remotely humorous things became a good deal funnier.

"Do you see Mister Turner?" Talia asked, briefly wondering why she wasn't the one struggling to see, as she was taller by about two inches. Sarah groaned then replied in a muffled, strained-sounding "uh-uh."

Hopping back down onto her heels, Sarah twitched her ruffled skirt to look cleaner. "He's probably in there, just out of sight." She paused. "Hopefully." Talia nodded giving her a long lost well-gee-no-I-was-hoping-he-was-DEAD look.

It was around fifteen minutes later when the two were finally let inside (together, of course, because they insisted that they must be let in as a pair). Elizabeth led them to a parlor sort of place and beckoned them to sit down. Standing near by was, presumably, Will Turner, looking bored. Apparently the maid-home-shopping-network was not his cup of tea. Before their host could say anything, Sarah spoke.

"Miss…ah…Turner," She had altered her voice to sound more proper, as opposed to her almost drawling British accent that most were accustomed to hearing. "to be completely honest, we are not here to apply for a job--we're here for a much more important reason." It wasn't a _wonderful_ introduction, but it would have to do. Neither of them had any ideas.

Talia nodded. She, too, altered her voice, though it was more difficult, and added to Sarah's statement. "Oh yes, _much_ more important. _Terribly_." Elizabeth looked quite confused. She glanced at Will, who looked clueless as well as intrigued, now that the interview wasn't going to be about housework. Pursing her lips, she turned to face the women again, and Will took a seat next to his wife.

"Important?"

"Yes, quite." Sarah started to giggle as Talia continued to uphold her "proper" accent. It would be fun to string them along as such.

"…What could be so incredibly important?" Will asked. Sarah giggled harder, and Talia started a bit as well.

"Well, you see…there is a ship at the docks that is in command…" Sarah bit her lip to keep from bursting out in uncontrollable laughter and ruining her "proper" accent. Clearly she and Talia had been deprived of such amusements lately. Whispering, she continued. "…of a pirate."

Elizabeth turned to look at her husband and raised her eyebrows. He shrugged and frowned. It had become frightfully difficult to hold back laughter. Yes, it was _very_ clear that they were having a great deal of fun with tricking them. More than natural.

"This pirate would like to speak with you, Mister Turner, and you, too, Miss." Sarah displayed her best are-you-intrigued gossiper's look. Now coming to the finale of their joke of sorts, they were attempting to calm down and they had dispersed much of their inane giggling.

"And what would two ladies be doing in the vicinity of a pirate?" Will replied. It appeared as though Elizabeth was too bewildered to speak.

"Well, for one thing," Talia said, as she dropped the prissy act and crossed her arms, leaning back in her chair casually. "we're not ladies."

"Oh, far from it." Sarah lost the disguise, as well, and was sitting in a much more comfortable position. "We're pirates as well." She finished Talia statement in a quieter tone so that no one else would hear. Elizabeth clapped a slender hand gently over her mouth and Will chuckled a little.

"And secondly, we _sail_ with the pirate, and his name be Jack Sparrow--"

"_Captain_ Jack Sparrow," Sarah put in. Talia nodded, rolling her eyes secretively, and agreed.

"Jack?" Miss Turner finally said something. She stood, skirt swaying delicately. It seemed to Talia that everything about this girl was fussed and primped. This annoyed her to no end. "God help Port Royal!" Elizabeth exclaimed, throwing her hands into the air with a flair of exasperation. Will could be heart muttering, "Well I'll be the friend of an axe-wielding dwarf…" with an amused smile on his face.

"So what now, do you want us to come with you?"

"It'd be lovely," Sarah replied. "and don't worry--we won't mug you, knock you out, throw you in to the sea, then run away." She held up one hand. "Scout's honor."

Giving each other a "geronimo" kind of look, the couple set off with the pirates to go meet Jack, who was, at the moment, playing cards with Ryan aboard the Death Lily (though he was going to return to the Black Pearl soon).

They hadn't gotten even half way to the ship when disaster struck. From behind the group came an oddly gentlemanly voice greeting Talia wit the utmost glee. She turned around to face Drew. He bowed to her, clearly pleased by her outfit. Talia, who was _dying_ to get back and change, merely rolled her eyes.

"You hopeless fop." She said, aggravated. Drew looked up. "I have no time for this." Pulling him up from his bent over position by his hair, she grasped his shoulders, turned him around, and pushed him away. Returning to the group, she spoke again.

"Let's continue, shall we?" Will turned to stare at her. He seemed to think that it was odd how cruel she was. Sarah found it funny.

"Did…you know him?" He asked her.

"…Unfortunately," She replied blankly. "I hate him so." Elizabeth was listening curiously. Sarah folded her arms behind her head and grinned at Talia.

"He seems to be infatuated with you, however." Talia seemed startled and somewhat annoyed that she would make this highly obvious statement in her presence.

"And when did ye realize this!" She said loudly, causing her partner to laugh. Of course she already knew, and Talia knew that she did--it was just a bad point in time to be humorously sarcastic.

"Why are you so mean to him?" Elizabeth asked, finally making good use of her vocal chords. Talia had quickly become the subject of the conversation and she didn't like it . Stopping, she held up her hands to accentuate her statement.

"If you were me, and he was…him, you'd be vicious, too," She said, and then began to walk again, leaving the remainder of the group in silence to think about her announcement.

After a few moments of silence had passed, it became terribly boring, so Elizabeth, always the 'proud' (more like 'stuck up') one, decided to show off using her well-rounded vocabulary to one of the pirates, reasoning that not all pirates could possibly have such an outwardly visible education (like Captain Barbossa). Since she was just plain scared of Talia (and also, she seemed to have a pretty well-developed sense of wording--but then again, she had _relations_ to Barbossa, so that seems pretty normal, doesn't it?), she turned to Sarah (fortunately, during the conversation, Talia was not listening at all, since she was more eager to get back to her ship)

"So, you travel with the Black Pearl?"

"Um, aye?"

"Oh, I see…I've been on the Black Pearl, you know."

"Have you now?"

"Oh, indeed. You see, six months ago, when the Pearl was still under the command of Barbossa, his crew came to Port Royal because they sensed that I held the gold coin that was part of…oh…what number was it…anyway, some number of coins in the cursed treasure of Cortez--"

"Oh, 882 coins."

"…Okay. Anyway, they knew I had it, so they tried to take it from me, but I demanded the right of parley--"

"You know about parley?"

"…Yes. Anyway, so they took me aboard the ship, and when confronted and asked what I wanted, I said that I wanted 'to negotiate the cessation of hostilities against Port Royal' and--"

"In other words, you used big words to try to confuse the stupid pirate."

"…What are you suggesting?"

"Nay, I'm not suggesting anything and I shan't suggest anything hitherto the conclusion of our conversation, which, to complete the necessary information of which you simply _must_ be aware, is nigh."

Elizabeth stared at her, suddenly wishing she hadn't tried to impress her. Why was it that she could never beat pirates when it came to talking fancy? It seemed quite odd. Sarah smiled wryly. Not wanting to open her big, embarrassing mouth, the young wife of Will stayed silent for the rest of the journey, as did the rest of the group.

As they arrived, Elizabeth stared up at the ship and tilted her head. "Well, uh, the Black Pearl looks significantly different than when I last saw it…"

"This is _my_ ship, you ill-minded daughter of Hades!" Talia exclaimed, itching to pull out her knives so as to slaughter the young bride of Mr. Turner. Elizabeth turned sheepishly to Talia and apologized, giggling girlishly. The captain rolled her eyes and proceeded to board her ship. "The Black Pearl be over there. Sarah, will you do the _honors_?"

Sarah stared at her, then shrugged and led the couple to Jack's hip where, appropriately, Jack, himself, stood waiting for his guests.

"Will! Elizabeth!" His face was smiling brightly. He opened his arms to them (not in embrace--'twas no the time for embrace…or, at least, that was Jack's opinion). A few seconds of wonderful reunion, then he turned to Sarah, who was standing a little behind Will and smiled. "Thanks, love."

"Aye." She smiled a bit boredly. She pointed at Elizabeth and mouthed, "She's such a wench!!" Jack shrugged good-naturedly. "Well, I'd best be returning to the Death Lily. See you around." Sarah waved to the group and departed.

"Well, Mister Turner--and his lovely bonnie lass--shall we proceed to me office for a chat and reminiscence?" Elizabeth, in reply to the captain's statement, smiled coyly and daintily rested her hands on her hips.

"And where would that be?"

Jack looked around, lifting his hands into the air. "Anywhere! Where would _you_ like to go on the Pearl?" Will laughed out loud. They, at length, decided to begin their journey to the past near the helm (mostly in favor of Jack, who wanted to stand there for authority).

"Ah! 'Tas been such a long time since we last spoke! Such a long time since ye two, my friends, the Turners, helped me get back the Pearl!"

"It's only been six months, Jack," Elizabeth laughed absentmindedly, brushing several strands of brown hair out of her face and gazing brightly at the Captain who once was stranded on an island with her and made terrible pick-up lines while drunk--fortunately, she was married now and he wouldn't try anything to try to get her in bed. Hopefully. …Well, actually…no, he wouldn't do it. He was too good of friends with Will. At least that was a comforting thought.

"True, true…still, once I stayed on a ship with the same people for six _weeks_ and we all went crazy and tried to kill each other. Six months _is_ a long time, mates." Jack's insane stories and even crazier explanations never ceased to amaze and amuse Will and Elizabeth.

"Oh, who were those two women who came to get us--you know, the really violent Irish one and the British one who led us over here?" Will seemed curious and, as he mentioned it, his betrothed seemed to catch the interest, as well.

"Eh?" Jack looked up from where he was staring at the grain in the wood of the ship (easily distracted…) "Oh. The pointlessly scary one is Talia, the captain of the that ship, over yonder--" He jerked his thumb toward the Death Lily, where Talia could be faintly heard yelling at, most likely, an invisible. "and the significantly more docile Brit is Sarah, who _works_ on the Death Lily." Again, he motioned to the ship in the background.

"And how did you come to travel with them, as they said?"

And so began Jack's long, drawn-out speech on, not only how he met Sarah, but how he met Talia in the Trading Company, how he made a pact with Talia (with Sarah as the binding factor), made _another_ pact with Talia (same deal), and other miscellaneous happenings, all the while expression how violent Miss Frost was, how annoying Drew was (he told them about Drew), and how stubborn Sarah was, in that she _still_ wouldn't come on his ship (though, actually, she had told him she would decide once the second negotiation was through--and the smile on her face as she said it made Jack feel confident in her answer).

When he finished, he paused to rest from talking, then asked how the happy couple's lives were, which sprung _them_ into a long-winded discussion on recent happenings in Port Royal, such as how the recent discovery of new pirate ships had greatly distressed Commodore Norrington, how smugglers in some of the more _forested_ shores were causing loss of sleep for the townspeople, and how their wedding had had to have been the most chaotic and insane ceremony ever held (Jack was half interested--sure, it was interesting, but town life just wasn't his cup of tea--or bottle of rum, you decide).

By the time both sides had finished, the sun had already begun to sunk into the sky, dappling everything with a rich, orangish color. Elizabeth jumped to her feet, exclaiming, "Oh! but it's late!" She glanced at Will, who looked perplexed, then stood up, as well. "I'm sorry, Jack, but we really must be going."

"Elizabeth's right. It's been simply splendid talking with you." Will nodded in agreement.

"Aw, don't ge' all prissy on me, boy, ye've still got pirate blood in you," Jack chided, lightly smacking Bootstrap Bill's only child over the head. "I say, tha' woman _is_ a bad influence on you, Mister Turner."

"I beg to differ," Elizabeth interrupted, smiling. "Now, we'll be on our way. Thank you for coming to see us!"

"And don't' get arrested," Will added.

"Okay, okay!" The captain watched as they began to head back to their lush, non-piratey surrounding. Privately, he thought about what they had told him about the Commodore, then, with a sigh, leaned on the edge of the ship and looked at the fort. _I _knew_ I should have killed that bloody Norrington when I had the chance…_

Technically, he never had the chance, which is probably why he was alive, but moving on.

He glanced at the Death Lily, considered dropping by, then changed his mind. As if it had been waiting for the Turners to depart, the sun had begun sinking lower in the sky much more quickly than before--such to a point that it was almost dark out. _I'll go in the morning,_ He thought, heading toward the stairs leading below deck. He instructed Gibbs (whom he picked on frequently) to watch the crew, and then he slipped into his room and went to bed.

The next morning rose on a cheery note--the sun was blinking gaily in the cerulean shaded sky, clouds, small and white, puffed by, dragging with them a feeling of freedom that draped across all who set eyes upon them. There would, also, have been a gently silence--but Talia was awake at dawn, so the minute she spotted something wrong, away went the silence.

Jack came over around midday and hung out, making small chitchat and generally driving Talia crazy, as she was trying to force him off the ship.

He was talking with Sarah, Asher, and Adrian when Sarah was called over by Talia and Asher went to play cards with Ryan, leaving Adrian behind, looking around meekly behind two shining coal-black eyes. Jack thought for a moment, a mischievous grin playing across his face, then he seized the captain's twin by the arm.

"Come, you Mister Frost, and I'll give you a tour of sorts, savvy? Port Royal is a big place and who want to get lost, eh?" If the younger of the two had protested, the older did not hear it. He dragged Adrian off the ship and into the town, eager to show him around the town where he nearly was hanged--again.

- - - - -

Looking around from the fort, a spyglass resting loosely in his hand, Commodore Norrington strolled about, watching the town with a hind of boredom. Since the smugglers wouldn't show their face in the town and the newly found pirates had quickly been dispatched (not by him, much to his dismay), nothing of interest had happened for six months--Norrington selfishly wished for the cheap thrill that was capturing pirates. He even wished for the notoriously ridiculous Captain Jack Sparrow. Oh yes, he _longed_ to see that man hanging dead from a rope.

"S-Sir!" A man shouted from a little ways off. The Commodore turned to face his Lieutenant, Gilette, who was pointing down at the town, clutching a spyglass of slightly less quality than the Commodore's, and the man was quite speechless.

"What?"

"Look!! Down there!"

Norrington frowned and pulled up his own spyglass, taking a sighing glance at where Gilette's finger pointed. At first he saw nothing, but as he was about to draw away, he spotted something at the harbor; a sinister-looking (to some degree) ship docked right in plain view--a pirate ship, almost no doubt! Norrington held back a smirk, then turned back to his lieutenant.

"A ship?" He raised his eyebrows.

"No--well, yes, but that's not what I'm referring to, sir, look over _there_!" He, again, gestured forcefully to the town. Rolling his eyes, Norrington raised his spyglass again to seek out what he was supposed to be seeing. This time, however, he got lucky and spied it almost immediately; a swaggering man in faded, brown, leather hat and jacket, strolling around in dreadlocks, accompanied by another man with red hair, who looked a bit more mature, if younger still (although most of this was a trifle unclear from the lens of the spyglass).

"Is it who I think it is, sir?"

"…Jack Sparrow…" Norrington mused, dropping the hand with his spyglass to his side. Looking around at the men who _clearly_ heard what he said, he raised his eyebrows. "Well? You know what to do! Pirates, men, the noose awaits two more trespassers!" He ordered, his voice bordering on severe annoyance. "Gilette, bring the irons--two, if you please." The Commodore really hoped the men knew which two to arrest--his soldiers had never been the _brightest_ of the bunch. Norrington smirked. His wish had been granted. _Say goodbye, Mr. Sparrow. You won't escape this time._

"And _that_ is the blacksmith shop where I assume our friend, dear William, still works--and where I fought him…and got arrested," Jack explained, motioning to the blacksmith shop he and Adrian stood in front of, gazing drearily up at the sign adorned with _Turner_ instead of _Brown_ (the governor recognized that _Will_ was making all of the swords, not Mr. Brown.).

"There he is!"

That cry from a ways off startled Jack out of his funk, since he was used to hearing people shout 'there he is!" when he was around.

"Both of them!" Another shout from the same direction.

"…Jack, _please_ don't tell me those are soldiers…" Adrian sighed and looked at Jack, who was tapping his fingers together in an attempt to look innocent.

"…Uh…no, they're…yeah, they're soldiers."

In a matter of seconds, the two pirates where surrounded by a growing amount of soldiers, Adrian receiving glances of anonymity and near-ignoring quality; Jack receiving triumphant grins, smirks, and glares, as well as a look of scolding from his companion. "Oop…" was all he could manage to mutter. He wracked his brain for an escape plan.

About a minute later, Norrington and Gilette pushed through the group--no, sorry, _crowds_ of soldiers gathering around the pirates, who were just short of prepared. "Well, well. Mister Sparrow."

"Ca--"

"Yes, yes, _captain_. And who is your friend?"

Adrian wouldn't talk or something, so Jack answered instead. "Eh, his name's Adrian Frost." He glanced around at the surrounding soldiers, then leaned in close to Norrington. "Listen, Commodore, d'you _have_ to arrest us?"

"Well, I cant' just let you go, now could I?"

"Actually, you could. Me mate an' I weren't causing any harm, just touring this lovely town, savvy? That doesn't warrant an arrest, does it?"

"That, in particular, does not." Norrington smiled wryly. "However, all the _other_ things you have done, _especially_ the things you did the last time you were in Port Royal, _do_ justify such an arrest." He raised a hand to Gilette. "Gilette! Irons, both of them."

"Wh-what did I do?" Adrian sputtered. Truly, he had done nothing of offense.

"Traveling with him. And you are, no doubt a pirate."

"That's not fair!" And it wasn't.

Despite both men's protests, they were hauled off to the jail, locked in behind familiar (to Jack) crossed bars, glaring miserably at the small, fury, wild-looking dog with the keys clamped casually in its jaws.

"Thanks a lot, Jack."

"…Ehh…"

- - - - -

"…" Talia sat on board the Death Lily with a lackluster stare that was nearly blind to the invisibles' mistakes while behind the glaze covering her eyes. Sarah stood a little ways off, tapping her heel rhythmically against the step up to the helm, annoying anyone bored enough to stop and listen.

It had been several hours since Jack and Adrian had left (and been arrested, unbeknownst to the residence of the two pirates ships), and things had slowed down considerably.

Both women were shaken out of their catatonic states when Asher 1. bumped against Sarah in order to reach Talia and 2. tapped the captain, herself, on the shoulder.

"Ah--Talia?"

"Mmrg…what?"

"…Have you seen Jack or Adrian lately?"

Sarah turned to look at the two at the helm and frowned. "Didn't they leave to tour Port Royal a few…hours ago, was it?" Talia looked from her first mate to her friend, then back, then back again.

"I heard Adrian was over on the Black Pearl!" Ryan shouted from his card game with Chess, who was cheating while his opponent was distracted (the dirty--).

"Naw, I bet they're off at the tavern having a jolly old time," An invisible interjected, waving one lanky hand in the air.

"That, or Jack decided that Adrian was irritating. Or vice versa. Or they killed each other. Or themselves," One of the more morbid invisibles reasoned. All four of the individual's ideas were unlikely.

The discussion on the absence of the people went on and on until, finally, Talia charged forth, grabbing Sarah's arm with a determined look which reflected her grim curiosity as to the location of her brother and unlucky traveling companion, then strode off the ship.

"Where are we going?" Sarah stammered, following Talia. Talia turned with a glare that could kill something small.

"Well, no one seems to know where me brother is--"

"And Jack."

"…So I'm going to look for them myself so as to put a stop to this useless conjecturing. Looking is so much simpler--and more effective, I might add."

"…Uhm…kind of spontaneous there, Talia."

"I'm glad you noticed, Sarah. That says something about your integrity."

"Hey, you're calling me Sarah now!"

"…And?"

"…Nevermind."

After that, the conversation dwindled to a degree and they directed their attentions to looking for their missing comrades, which was somewhat more difficult than they had imagined, since they were nowhere to be found. The women checked everywhere they could think of and still could find no trace. Talia was about to suggest that they split up and go look in the placed they had already checked for a second time when a familiar and agonizingly irritating voice rang out from a few paces away.

"Looking for your friends, dear ones?"

Talia, of course, recognized it at once and it wasn't too long after she reacted that Sarah registered the disembodied voice as Drew's.

"Oh dear Lord…" Captain Frost groaned. She clearly did not want to converse with her love-struck, obsessive, enigmatic, infuriating, dull-witted, and psychopathic admirer. Sarah turned to him.

"Refraining from using one of the many words that describe you, what do you want?"

He stepped forward. Talia now turned around to see as he smoothed his hair and crossed his arms (she watched with absolute and mutual--with Sarah--disgust), an expression on with him which Sarah was, unfortunately, familiar with. He knew something, which was never good. "To drop a line that I know the location of your friends, be they apart or together," He pushed hair out of his frigid eyes. "and together is what they are."

Talia, now aware of what he knew, sprang forward and seized him by the collar, her blazing eyes battling with this icy ones. "Where's me brother, you impossibly, magnificently pompous blonde-striped field mouse!?"

Drew frowned, probably considering the insult she had just dealt, then regained his composure and answered her with a mysterious tone echoing in his voice. "Ah, but you would like to know, wouldn't you, my sweet?" Talia looked ready to kill and Sarah stood, attentive to Drew's words and still at the ready to restrain Talia, should she make a move to slaughter Drew before he was finished speaking (she wouldn't mind if she killed him, just if she killed him before they knew the location of their friends--then again, he was pushing it with his words…). "Well, I'll tell you…if you do something for me…"

"You'll tell me and be lucky to get away alive!" She snarled, jerking him in her grip at the neck of his shirt.

"Since when have you made deals, Drew? Usually you do things for free and leech off of people when it's of most value to you," Sarah stated pointedly, muttering under her breath, "The rotten worm…"

He swooned. "Ah, but love does things to people…" Talia snorted and Sarah rolled her eyes. "…Although…it is difficult when the one you love does not love you back…" Talia's eyes narrowed in a premonition of how she'd look right before she threw his bloody, mangled body into the sea. "…No matter. She'll come around!" He sounded quite cheery now. "I suppose I'll tell you, but you owe me!"

"I owe you nothing, peon!" She shook him violently three or four times, then set him down (the kind way of putting in words what she did) and stepped back to listen. "Speak."

He hesitated, a smirk still heavily evident on his face, then said, "Norrington decided to take Captain Sparrow and your beloved brother for a tour of the jail and, without thinking…or perhaps he was thinking…locked them in a cell." Drew looked devious and, at the same time, please, which was an odd thing for him to feel, given the circumstances. Both women knew what he meant by 'locked them in a cell'--they had been found and arrested.

Talia either looked passive or enraged, it was difficult to say--but enraged seemed more likely of Talia. "I'll kill Norrington," She said first, staring blankly at Drew, then she clenched her fists and _glared_ at Drew, saying, "I will _kill_ Norrington!" She continued to repeat this until she had gotten immeasurably worked up, then she turned to storm off to the fort, but Sarah grabbed her by the shoulders and attempted to hold her back. Drew, meanwhile, slunk off into the shadows, taking with him that strange and malicious aura that he always seemed to summon when he was near.

"Nonononono, Talia, wait--just--" Sarah struggled to keep her captain from rushing off, but it was terribly difficult, as Talia was weirdly strong when passionate about something.

"If you don't' let me go, I'll find that cleaver and remove your eyes--and as you know, cleavers aren't very accurate!" A long silence, but Sarah didn't let go.

'Would you _listen_??"

"To what!?"

Sarah clapped on hand over Talia's mouth to keep her from talking, which caused Talia to slam her foot down on Sarah's, which in turn caused Sarah to fall backwards, dragging her captain with her to the ground.

When they dust settled and Sarah's hand had fallen to the ground from Talia's mouth (which was, had she not stepped on her foot, ready to bit Sarah's fingers off), the red haired, violent Irishwoman sighed and grumbled, "Fine. What do you want to say?" She sounded incredibly cross.

Both women struggled to their feet, then brushed themselves off. "Okay…you know as well as I that it'd be downright foolish to storm the fort, what with the currently outnumbering force consisting of soldiers just waiting for us, so why don't we wait a day, think up a plan, then I'll go _with_ you tomorrow. At least it's a better shot," She raised her eyebrows, eyes accompanying said gesture with a meaningful glance. "than running in blind."

Talia paused, reasoning the pros and cons of her underling's (as she perceived her) idea with a skeptical foresight, then grumbled to herself again, crossed her arms, and begrudgingly agreed.

They returned to the Death Lily, the news they had received of Jack and Adrian slipping along behind them, which generally hit reasonably hard. When the discussion began of what to do next, more than just the hot headed captain and her blond, sarcastic friend were involved; Asher frequently made suggestions, Chess and Ryan attempted to relieve stress by cracking really _bad_ jokes, and even some of the invisibles, commonly the ones scared stiff of Talia, tried to spread ideas, though hardly any of them stuck. It wasn't until the next day that they actually found an idea that seemed reasonably enough to try it. The only problem was that it required Will Turner, and they weren't sure if he would be obliged to helping pirates.

Then again, he truly was a pirate, marriage to a governor's daughter or not, so they decided that they would find a way to convince him at all costs--after all, it _was_ a matter of life and death.

When the time was reasonably, when it wasn't too early that no one would be awake and the sky was gray with smooth clouds that mirrored the monotony of Port Royal, which resembled every other port town in the majority of the Caribbean, Talia and Sarah set off for the home of Will and Elizabeth Turner.

For the second time in three days, a pair of pirates visited the Turners (which, since the pirates were not disguised as somewhat respectable women this time, was quite distressing to the servants and butler). Fortunately, Will and Elizabeth hurried them inside without a second thought so as to cut short the quick spreading rumors that would, no doubt, be flying around the estate in a minute or so.

"What are you doing here?" Will asked, the sounds of Elizabeth closing the dining room door audibly in the background. Talia restrained her urge to grab Will's collar (as was customary when she was angry and needing something from someone).

"You! Turner! What can you do when it comes to breaking people out of jail? Tell me, and be quick about it!"

The couple made noises of aggravation and exasperation, sending worried eyebrow messages. "Jack got himself arrested, didn't he?" Will asked, watching their 'guests' nod and stare intensely at him. "Well, since I _have_ gotten Jack out before, I suppose I could do it again."

"And you had better be dem careful--me brother's there, too!!" Talia demanded as the group, which now consisted of three, traveled to the fort.

As they looked for a clear entrance to the fort, Will glanced skeptically at his partners and warily asked, "Uh…what's the plan, ladies?"

"You are!" Sarah replied, still searching for a safe passage into the building. _This doesn't bode well…_ All three thought dismally.

Finally, they got sick of waiting and Talia ran forwards, knocking out the guards patrolling and ushering the other two inside. Similarly to the Nosferatu mission (in more ways than one, since they had to rescue Adrian again), they killed (or knocked out) every man they came across, leaving _another_ clear trail of where they had been. On the bright side, if no one came while they were breaking their friends out of the slammer, they would have a nice, empty path to smuggle them out.

They arrived at the cells to see two occupied units--one holding Jack and the other holding Adrian and some random guy who Adrian was staying away from. It seemed as though Norrington wished to keep the two pirates who were friends in separate cells.

Jack was the one with the bone, trying to get the dog to come over (since Adrian was too busy staying away from the guy in his cell), frivolously attempting to grab the keys when the furry thing got close enough. They he noticed the rescue team.

"Sarah! Talia! And--Will?" As he said this, Adrian looked up.

"Talia!"

"Hey Adrian--who's that?" Talia was referring to the other man in her twin's cell; Adrian shrugged in reply.

Will stepped forward, scaring away the dog, then picked up a nearby bench. "Well, here I am again, Jack. Breaking you out of jail with my bench skills." He leaned on the end of the bench.

"Bravo, young Turner, I applaud your more rebellious streak, now break down this dem door again so I can catch that confounded dog and get Adrian out." Jack threw the bon into Adrian's cell, where Adrian, himself, caught it and watched with interest as Will wedged the legs of the bench between crossed bars. Since he was a blacksmith, and he had built the cells in the first place, he knew exactly how to get the door open without the key--something about hinges and leverage and pressure that no one understood when he tried to explain it. But he had gotten Jack out before, the same way, so the door came off with ease…or something of the like. Saving Jack the hassle of running off to find the key, Sarah had already found the dog and pried the keys out of its jaws. She unlocked the door, let Adrian scurry out, then locked the door before the other man could get out.

"Sorry, chap, but we gotta leave you here. My sympathies." She smiled sarcastically, then turned to the rest of the group. Jack was reapplying all of his belts and things, as well as slipping on his jacket and grabbing his hat. Adrian was standing by Talia and looking around anxiously, probably looking out for soldiers.

Since most of the men who could have heard the clamor of breaking out the pirates were either dead or unconscious, the good news was that no myriad of soldiers rushed down to arrest _all five_ of them--the bad news was that someone _did_ rush down to arrest them; it was only one person, but it was the worst person that it could be (well…yeah, I guess).

It was Commodore Norrington.

Talia narrowed her eyes in a cold stare--she could tell it was the Commodore because of his hat and all of the shiny things on his uniform. "Okay. Sarah, Will, take Jack and Adrian back to the ship--I'm going to teach the Commodore something about _arresting my brother_."

She didn't take her eyes away from the very poised-looking officer standing in front of her, but she heard the other four exit. As soon as they were gone, Norrington smiled. "So, you're going to teach me a lesson, Miss?" He stepped forward. Talia smiled back.

"Oh, yes, I'm a wonderful teacher--and my blade is a wonderful classroom aid." She drew her sword, which she _didn't_ forget this time. Norrington drew his, as well.

For a change, Talia let Norrington make the first move, and he stepped forward (he was pretty close already, mind you) and…well, attacked. Talia parried easily and stepped back, smile still etched across her pale features. He attacked again--this time, our heroine stepped backwards to doge it, which, obviously, caused his sword the slice through the air about a half a foot away from the captain. Norrington frowned and pointed the tip of his blade at his challenger. "Well? Are you not going to attack me?"

"I'll attack when I'm dem well ready, you son of a mutant pig." This remark didn't seem to sit well with the commodore, and it became evident when he lunged forward and began attacking furiously, which triggered Talia's attacking in return.

Though both probably wouldn't admit it, they regarded each other as worthy adversaries; and at the same time, blow after blow, each wondered when defenses would break and an attack would actually land.

"Oh Commodore, you look so splendidly _foppish_ with that wig. Prey tell--did you get it by scalping a seventy-year-old woman?" Talia pulled out a knife and used it to try and distract Norrington.

"And where did you learn to duel, Miss, from a deranged vampire bat?" And a second after he said this, the commodore was slammed backwards into the door of the cell that held Adrian's former cellmate. The man cried out in surprise, then burst into a furious fit of coughing. Talia spent her one moment of peace--when she was waiting for her opponent to recover--frowning, bewildered, at the backing, wheezing man. Was he sick or something?

However, she couldn't wonder this any longer, for Norrington was soon on his feet again, resuming the fight with somewhat renewed vigor. Talia, red hair like fire in the air, slid past him and retrieved her knife, then she tossed it behind her back, hitting Norrington's hat and wedging both the blade and the hat into the wall. She turned to see his frustration contorted face, and she smiled. "Lonely without your fancy hat? Look, without it, you're no commodore--you're just another half-witted soldier who's been primped to perfection on the surface--but you're still rotten within!" She taunted, watching him turn, trying to decide if he should retrieve his hat or not (he didn't).

"Impressive. Quite impressive," He said briskly, obviously ruffled by her comment. He was attempting to cool off, trying to look imperturbably professional (she could see right through it). "And without your honor, _pirate_, you're no better than you make me out to be--a sad mirror of a lost cause."

"I'm not the lost cause, _Sarah _is, but if you want to play it that way," Talia snickered. "…well _dem_, I won't even _begin_ on your honor. Strutting around like the cock of the walk, barely scratched by 'petty emotions', you're worse off than you think, Commodore. Your life of restriction and rules are below the pirate, we live carefree--confined as _you_ are, you're damaging, slowly chipping away at not only your pride, your honor, but your _sanity_--as you can so _clearly_ see. Do not judge, lest ye be judged."

He fumed beneath the surface of his cool composure. She had near struck nerve--honor was incalculably important and to hear her turn his own words of honor against him was like nails on a chalkboard--or listening to Jack Sparrow, one of the two. Though as much as he wanted to reply with some equally stinging observation, all he could manage was, "And same to you." And so the fight began again.

The battle seemed to go on for ages (and probably would have, if not for divine--or rather, lucky--intervention from Talia's boredom rate), such to the point that Talia actually became _bored_ and began fighting with a lack of motivation. Fortunately, she was still better than Norrington when without motivation. Finally, she jumped back, pulled out two knives and, when Norrington was close to the back wall and his hands were in the air, she hurled the blades at his coat cuffs. The act of doing so pinned him to the wall, since the force with which she threw the knives was quite powerful and wedged the blade tips immovably in the wall, much to Norrington's misfortune.

"I tire of this fight." She said blankly. Since she had prevented his movement with her knives and was wielding a sword saying that she was tired of the fight, Norrington suddenly feared that his demise was imminent--but Talia didn't care whether he lived or died. She picked up the bench that Will had used to pry open the door and heaved it at the commodore, who fell unconscious upon impact. "Goodbye."

After scouring the building for silverware and knife-like objects (she found a butter knife and a letter opener), she returned to where Norrington hung unconscious, replaced her knives with her newly found utensils, then left to return to her ship (secretly, unlike Sarah and company, who had merely rushed out, killing or overthrowing any soldiers who had gotten in their way).

A few minutes later, a soldier with a black eye and several nasty-looking bruises hurried down the stairs and pulled the sharp objects out of the wall so that Norrington crumpled to the ground. This, of course, woke him up, so he stumbled to his feet, leaning on the wall for support, then slowly became aware of what had just happened.

"Wha…oh--oh! You, soldier, did yo--what happened to _you_?" He had tried to ask if the soldier had seen Talia, but the man's many bruises had captured his interest first.

"Oh. Well, sir, several--meanin' four--pirates ran ou' o' the buildin' about a half an hour ago. We tried to figh' 'em, but they had the uppa' hand, so about fifteen o' so o' ou' men a' busted up pre'y badly--o' dead, one o' the two. A wo'man and three men--one of 'em migh' 'ave been tha' Jack Sparrow fellow." The man's accent was horribly difficult to translate, leaving Norrington with only the information that Jack and that 'Sarah' and their comrades had escaped by somehow overtaking around fifteen soldiers, which seemed just about impossible.

Norrington sighed depressively. "Detestable pirates…I wish there was a more efficient way of executing those loathsome beasts than hanging…"

"Beheadin' is efficient, sir." The soldier piped, hands clasped behind his back.

"…That's true…beheading…yes, that would work…now if only I could make a--wait, wait," He shook his head vigorously, remembering to stay on track. "tell me, did you see a red haired woman leave?"

"Uh, no, sir, we've jus' been gettin' up…well, the livin' ones o' us," Norrington slouched forward in disbelief. Those demned, elusive pirates…once more they had eluded his grasp, the scurrilous phantoms. He cursed the day that God, upon his amusement, created such reckless buccaneers to haunt his every move.

Looking up from where he was slumped over, he turned to stare at the soldier, who was staring into space with a look of admiration on his slack-jawed face. "Those have go' to be th' best pirates I've eva' seen…"

Commodore Norrington smacked his forehead desperately. His ridicule would never end, to be sure.


	13. Let the Fever Spike

When Talia had practically leaped aboard her ship, she immediately commanded everyone to ready the Death Lily to set sail. Jack pretty much took the hint from her vicious screaming and told his crew to do the same. As soon as the ship was prepared to sail, Talia turned the ship to the horizon and hoped that God sent a fast wind--after all, it wouldn't be long before Norrington was conscious. Once everything was hunky-dory and Port Royal was far to their rudder (both the Death Lily and the Pearl), the captain went to interrogate/coo over her twin brother.

Of course, the end result of the interrogation/cooing was a very angry-at-Jack Talia and a very sheepish Adrian…which was bad, since if Talia was mad about _anything_, she generally took it out on her crew. So, of course, Adrian then took the brunt of a mess of joking reprimands from Asher, Ryan, Chess, and Sarah (the invisibles were too afraid to talk anymore and besides, at least Adrian could tell when his _friends_ were joking, whereas the invisibles…well, you could never really tell).

It seemed to be a strange phenomenon (to Sarah and Jack, that is) that, for the next four weeks at sea, the sky was a brilliant shimmering sheet of mirrored ocean--nary a cloud was seen, which was so very strange and peculiar. Every day Sarah would make a new comment about it to Jack, who was frequenting the Death Lily in more dramatic spurts since the beginning of the second week (it took a while for Talia to cool off). Neither one of the them could understand it, but both were thankful for what the clear skies meant--nothing bad!

The end of the fourth week/beginning of the fifth week, both ships took a pit stop and another random island; resting, restocking supplies, and generally searching for loot, of which they found none. They stayed at this island (no one knew the name, really) for half a week, then began their journey to nowhere in particular again. About a week after that, they came upon another island and stopped to rest and have some time to themselves (they had learned from their last experience _not_ to stay on the same ship with the same people for more than six weeks). While at this new island, Talia and Sarah had two interesting experiences (and though you may _think_ you know what happened, a.k.a., Talia sees Drew, Sarah talks with Jack, but you're wrong). First, _Sarah_ came across Drew while she was on a search for plunder (very unfruitful, by the way). Basically, it meant it was a chance for Sarah to be harshly sarcastic to her traitorous friend from a decade ago.

He approached her on the street that led through the middle of the town (considered "main street"). "Oh, if it isn't my old pal? Looking for a street corner to sulk on?"

"And if it isn't _my_ old pal? Looking for your rock to crawl back underneath?" Sarah sneered, rolling her eyes and turning to face the gentleman behind her.

"Such harsh words from such a pretty mouth. Prey tell, why are you so hateful, dear one?" He had a benign smirk across his face, which bothered her because she could see right through it to his cruel, empty soul.

"I'm no dearer to you than I am to Commodore Norrington--no dearer to you than…my own parents, who left me in their _dust_." She shuddered with visible disdain.

"No dearer than the boy who taught you was to your parents, perhaps?"

Sarah stared at him, frowning. She had never told him about the boy--how did he know? She could not, however, think of anything to say, so she stood, stock-still, with her blue eyes fixed up the mysterious man in front of her.

"Cat got your tongue, Pandora?" She was shaken out of her trance.

"More like rat. What about you? Parrot got your brains?" She swiveled slightly on her heels and leaned forward. "I daresay your intelligence has been waning, as of late. Probably in favor of your fashion sense…after all," She took a step closer to him and touched the neatly-tied black ribbon in his sandy-colored hair. "who needs brains when you've got the most _exquisite_ ribbon in your immaculately shiny hair?"

She finally saw a reaction. Drew's false mask briefly cracked and he scowled at her with a look of extreme dislike--which was perfectly fine with her. Reverting back to his calm expression, Sarah's double-crossing former friend crossed his arms and smiled. "Lashing out again?" He clicked his tongue. "Nasty habit. It's _oh_ so much better to stay cool and under control."

"I'll give you under control--how about I scalp you, then you show me under control, eh?"

"Ah yes, scalp me. I'll break your arm before you can reach me."

Sarah snorted. "You! You'll break my arm! You couldn't break a rotting twig with your spindly fingers if your very living breath depended on it."

"Laugh all you want, just don't push me."

"Where would you get that idea? I'm just laughing. Pushing requires physical activity, of which I don't feel like participating in. Right now, I'd just prefer to laugh at you."

Drew sighed. "You know what I meant."

"Do I? Amazing! He can read minds, too! See the incredible gypsy, Drew! He'll tell your fortune then struggle to pick up a glove! It's brilliant! I'd make a lot of money off of that." She enjoyed watching her acquaintance's expression of frustration evolve. She was on such a roll, it was ridiculous.

He held up his hands. "Fine. Ridicule me, poke fun. It'll all come back to you someday." He smiled, and to a passerby, it probably would have looked friendly, but to someone as well versed in Drew's emotions as Sarah, it was sinister. He was hiding something behind that cheery smile.

For a few moments of silence, the two surveyed each other, then Sarah shifted her jaw and sighed. "You know what? I think I'll be on my way now." With a thoughtful glance, she turned and began to walk on her way, then she turned her head slightly. "I hope not to see you any time soon."

"La, but you have no idea how _much_ I want to see _you_."

That just chilled her. The way he said it was so frighteningly cold that she actually physically shivered. Was he like this with Talia, or was he disturbingly bumbling and stupid in a lovey-dovey sort of way? At the present, the only thing she wanted was to get away from him, to get far, far away from him. She turned one last time to look at him; he was still standing there, fake smile plastered on his gaunt face. The sun may have been shining brightly, the weather warm and balmy, but when Sarah exhaled just then, she could almost see her breath.

She wasn't sure what it was, but Drew was so different now. It scared her a little--had she not hated him so much at that moment, she would have been concerned, but seeing as she couldn't stand the man, it just scared her. Though scared was an understatement of significant proportions.

He was up to something.

- - - - -

Second, _Talia_ talked to Jack (what a surprise, eh?). She approached him on the Pearl and decided to have a nice, _long_ conversation with him about his least favorite subject.

"Jack." Jack spun around to face Talia, who had pretty much snuck up behind him.

"Oh, Talia. It's only yo--well…it's you. Okay." He stretched his arms above his head lazily (after he had recovered from the shock of Talia scaring him, that is) and gazed at Talia with his soft and sleep-drugged brown eyes. He hadn't gotten any sleep the night before.

Then again, what Talia was about to talk about would most definitely wake him up. "Jack. I _know_ why you want her."

"Mother o--not this again!" He dropped his hands, still above his head (though, now they were at his sides), and turned away. "Do we have to talk about this?"

"Yes."

"Fine, fine. Then let's go someplace else." He looked around for a few seconds, then headed downstairs, Talia trailing behind with a smug look on her face.

Sitting in Jack's room (which was an absolute pig-sty, really), Talia brushed a few strands of red hair away from her face and sat staring primly at Jack, who was sprawled on his bed. "So. You love her."

"No, I don't."

"Yes, you do."

"First off, no, I don't, and second, no, we're not starting this again. That was really, really, really annoying." Talia nodded. Jack, slightly aggravated from lack of sleep and the subject at hand, pushed a beaded lock of hair out of his face, the corners of his mouth extending, making him look very…oh, very cranky, I suppose.

"I'd only like to point out how very _obvious_ it is that you love her."

"I-it's not _obvious_!"

Talia was in one of her rare good moods (sort of) and her face was animated with a sly smile that cast a curious flame in her eyes. "Oh! And you just happened to fall onto her face that one day when I walked in on you two?"

A stunned silence. Jack couldn't reply because he was too shocked to utter a word. However, let it be known that, had his mouth come unglued and his voice box repaired, he would have been able to make a spectacular lie.

"Ahh." Talia crossed her arms, clearly pleased with his non-existed reply. "I see you have no argument--I told you!"

"…That's no proof at all," He muttered. "It's not proof--for instance, had it been _you_ in the room, the same thing would have happened--minus the tranquility and you walking in," He was struggling vainly to make up a lie. Technically, it was half true (though it was unlikely that he would have kissed Talia to make her shut up, for fear of being disfigured), but there was no way he'd let her know that he loved Sarah. "and you _know_ Sarah didn't start it--she's too angry with me the majority of the time."

"You're a terribly liar."

"What??"

"Forget it. I'll find more proof and come to you again. But remember--" She stood and began to walk away, but turned her head to glance back at him. "--I _know_ it and there is _nothing_ you can do about it."

"Okay." He stood and waved at her with a forced grin. "Just don't kill me for breathing," He added between clenched teeth. Sighing as soon as she was gone, he sat back down, grimacing.

__

Hopefully she won't make this to Sarah--then again, she'd probably make a better lie about it.

- - - - -

Soon after these things happened, the ships set sail again, another two weeks passing with eerie speed, and all was well and good (if you disregard the fact that Talia was beginning to resemble a slave driver to the invisibles, Jack was visiting the Death Lily more and more which made the Irish captain more rabid than usual, and Ryan attempted to start another car tournament, which, obviously, ended in disaster). The is, until the third week.

Sarah, as per usual, was standing at the side of the ship early that morning, talking to Adrian and waiting for Jack to miraculously appear on the ship. Adrian was in the middle of a sentence when, without warning, he burst into a fit of coughing. Despite the obvious strangeness of it all, he recovered quickly and was greeted with Sarah's cheery and confused reply.

"Y'okay?"

"Yeah, I think."

She laughed, as if trying to relieve the tenseness around the odd development. "Coughing up a hairball?" He laughed and nodded, though he still didn't understand what had made him begin to cough like that. It wasn't long after that that Jack appeared and listened to the two people talk about what had happened to Adrian. As if some sort of omen, he repeated the act spontaneously and found himself staring confusedly at Sarah and Jack.

"I'm assuming that you _meant_ to do that." Jack said, triggering a slow shake of Adrian's head. It didn't seem right, it didn't seem natural, that Adrian would, out of nowhere, begin to hack as if he were choking on something, and not one of them, even the victim himself, understood what it mean, but it most assuredly was not a good thing.

Not wanting to consider the possibilities of what it _could_ mean, they all tried to forget it, hoping it was just some quirky thing that happened once and _only_ once. However, that wasn't the case. A few days later, the coughing (which had been occurring on and off throughout the week) took a turn for the worse--and others began to cough, as well. In fact, the only people who _weren't_ afflicted were Jack, Talia, Sarah, Asher, Ryan, and Chess (ironically enough).

It actually didn't seem to bad of a thing (just irritating coughing that hardly affected work, aside from the rare times when someone would cough so hard that they fell over--it was pretty harsh for Adrian, though)--until _other_ things started. Adrian first, then several other people, began to be lose their appetite and become lethargic; they shuffled around weakly and their processes slowed. And if anyone had bothered to look in on the affected while they slept, they would have known of the cold sweat that most broke out in as they lay in bed.

For once, Talia wasn't drilling the crew as usual, due to the condition of the majority's health, and was mostly attending to Adrian while the other non-sick people (a.k.a. Sarah, Jack, Chess, Ryan, and Asher, respectively) tended to the invisibles. Half a week after Talia began taking care of her brother, another ominous discovery was made.

Adrian was coughing up blood--and soon after it was discovered and reported to the caretakers (I won't list them again), the caretakers, themselves, began to find invisibles coughing up blood, as well.

Finally, if anyone had had any doubt there was some sort of sickness among the Death Lily crew (…who would doubt something as obvious as that??), that doubt was quickly tossed aside as people began to be detected with fevers.

"What d'you think it is?" Asher asked the caretakers (minus one Talia), kicking the deck beneath his feet with dismal effort.

"…Could be Consumption," Ryan offered, sitting down on a crate and shuffling his cards offhandedly. "My dad once knew a friend whose cousin's mother's nanny had Consumption. 'E said it was terrible."

"He didn't mention any symptoms, did he?" Sarah wasn't looking at anyone, she was watching the sky, which had been a constant heather gray for the past eleven or so days. It wasn't looking very bright, that was for sure. Ryan rattled off a list of symptoms that he thought his father had mentioned, and every single one he named had been spotted on the Death Lily. When questioned of his father's friend's cousin's mother's nanny death, he said he didn't know because his father had fallen asleep before he could finish his story.

"Well," Jack pulled to his feet from his cross-legged position on the floor. "I'm going to go check on Adrian and Talia."

"I'll come, too." Sarah followed Jack down to Talia's quarters, where Adrian was lying on Talia's bed, his sister never far from his side.

It was horrifying to the two as they watched, unseen from the doorway, Talia begin to cough. They glanced at each other with weary looks and hoped for the best--it was all they could do.

It was _really_ beginning to look bleak as many of the invisibles were coughing and hacking at a feverish (no pun intended) pitch, but on the slightly brighter side, Adrian was beginning to improve, and Talia hadn't even started coughing up blood--and it was already a week after she had contracted the disease! The caretakers were starting to feel the stress relieving, which was a blessed feeling. One of the invisibles had already recovered and had mostly regained his appetite.

And then the final blow struck.

Sarah was having a somewhat more upbeat conversation with the caretakers and then someone mentioned checking on Talia and Adrian (Talia was in the same room as Adrian now). Sarah offered to go, and so she meandered down the steps and into Talia's room where there was a…well, a _something_ in the air that she couldn't quite place. But nothing really seemed out of the ordinary. She checked on Talia, who was sleeping (she may have been doing okay, but she was still incredibly lethargic), then she turned to face Adrian.

There was really something different about him, now that she looked at him straight on, but she couldn't entirely grasp what it was. She stepped closer and frowned, trying to figure out what was different about him, why something struck her as odd--then it hit her.

The room was silent as a crypt. She suddenly felt the walls press in. Adrian's face looked peaceful enough, but that was just it; _he wasn't coughing_. His usually pale face was an ashen color. A cold, dry gasp escaped Sarah. He was dead.

She looked back at Talia, sleeping in gentle tranquility. Could she bear to tell the sister of her brother's fate? It was difficult to say. Stomach sinking to the floor, Sarah couldn't find the will to walk out the door. He mind had gone pretty blank and she couldn't think.

"Sarah, what are you doing?" Jack was likely wondering why she hadn't returned yet, considering it didn't take that long to check on someone. "What are you just standing there for?" Silence. "What--did something happen? _You're_ not sick, are you?" Silence again. "…Sarah?" She slowly turned to him.

"Jack…Adrian…he's…" Jack looked _really_ confused--and rightfully so. Sluggishly turning her gaze and body away from Adrian, she stared at the floor, glanced at Talia, then Adrian, then looked at Jack. "Adrian's dead." Jack caught on. His eyes widened and he looked to the peaceful Adrian.

"You're joking."

"No."

"Bloody hell…"

The tomb-like presence returned and it was near unbearable to be in the room any longer. Talia still slept on and, not wanting to wake her for something as terribly sad as what had taken place, they two of them left the room to return at a later time. They told the caretakers--it wasn't taken well.

When Talia was awake the next day, Sarah and Jack (it only seemed right, since they had found her brother first) came to herald the bad news.

"Talia…how are you feeling?" Was the very lame start of the conversation from Sarah's end.

"I'm feeling better. How's Adrian?" Jack and Sarah just happened to be blocking her view of where Adrian lay. Sarah glanced hesitantly at Jack and took a deep breath. This was a lot more difficult than she had imagined--and she had imagined it _quite_ difficult.

"Adrian is…uh…he's…Adrian is…dead, Talia. I'm sorry." She cringed at her own words. At least it was over with. She glanced at Jack again, who was straining not to look really weird. As his teeth were half-bared and his face was also contorted n a cringe. Talia, on the other hand, looked at first like she didn't comprehend. Her face was a little concerned and her mouth was slightly ajar.

Then it registered and her expression changed greatly. Her mouth clamped shut and her eyes widened. She seemed to turn a shad paler as she sunk into the pillow beneath her head. For three minutes Sarah and Jack watched their grief-stricken friend stare at the ceiling and tried to contact her, to no avail. There was nothing they could do now. They left her in silence.

If you could have heard Talia's thoughts, it probably would have scared you. She wanted to blame someone, blame someone for this dem sickness, for the death of her dear brother. She could have blamed Jack, but she was tired of blaming Jack, so she didn't; she could have blamed Adrian for following Jack, but she loved her brother far too much, so she didn't; she could have blamed the sick prisoner in the cell with Adrian, but she didn't; she could have blamed Norrington for arresting them both and putting her brother in the cell with the sick prisoner, but she didn't; she could have blamed the Governor of Port Royal for giving Norrington the authority to arrest her brother and Jack, but she didn't; she could have blamed Will and Elizabeth for being friends with Jack and therefore being the cause of the trip to Port Royal in the first place, but she didn't; she could have, if she had known about the adventures of Jack, Will, Elizabeth, Barbossa, and the Black Pearl, blamed her own uncle (Barbossa, ironically) for kidnapping Elizabeth and causing Will to talk to Jack which eventually let to them traveling together and becoming friends, which was the reason they came to Port Royal, but she _didn't_ know about that, so she didn't; she could have blamed Sarah for being friends with Jack and causing Talia to come with her to meet him at that tavern, which inevitably led to Talia negotiating with Jack to save her brother in the first place, but she didn't; she even could have blamed herself for listening to Jack that night in the tavern, but she didn't. She finally decided on God, who created the disease, who created her parents who bore her and her twin, and who planned fate to lead to this. She was so engulfed in shock that all she could do was stare at the ceiling, concerning all well enough to notice.

It took only one more week for Talia to recover from the sickness, and by then most of the invisibles (who lived) were feeling well. She took out all of her grief on the crew, screaming with more fury than ever, and the only people she would talk to and not scream at were Asher and Ryan (because they had known Adrian almost as well as her and she could reminisce with them), sometimes Sarah (she was her friend, and the only woman on board, save herself), and even less times…hardly ever…Jack (…every once in a great while).

The week Talia recovered, it rained.


	14. Half Heard Voices

The rain didn't stop for another week. By that time, Talia had calmed down significantly and seemed to be returning to her old habits (everyone had guiltily hoped that her habits would cease altogether due to sadness, but they were all sadly mistaken). Her sarcastic attitude was restored and, though no one would admit it (after they had gotten over her not dropping the habits), most were glad to have the old Captain Frost back.

They stopped at another town to rest and restock (Yes, again. Most were afraid that the food and things were contaminated with the sickness that most had suffered, so they had to pick up brand new stuff), as well as take some time to themselves. Jack, naturally, headed straight to the tavern, several things on his mind (two of the total three things having to do with Sarah) that he intended to drown in alcohol. Sarah played cards with Ryan (she had never played him before and she won on the first game--"beginner's luck" was what Ryan had called it). Talia went off to think (and plunder)--and dragged Asher along with her (he didn't mind).

"…So…is there any specific _reason_ you brought me along?" Asher asked after around ten minutes of walking and silence. She glanced back at him (she was walking slightly in front of him), her arms crossed, which gave her an aloof sort of look.

"No. Got a problem with me bringing ye?" She replied stiffly. Her eyes resumed looking straight ahead

"Not at all," He answered loosely. She glanced back at him again.

"…How're ye?" She finally asked. He smiled.

"I've been better, but I'm alright. And you?"

"…Ehh. 'Suppose I could be worse." She shrugged.

It was a nice day. The sun was barely hidden behind grayish-white clouds. The sky was a sweet, calm blue that had a small hint of gray in it. A very slightly cool breeze slid across the faces of the townspeople.

Asher couldn't complain--as long as you were friends with Talia, she wasn't so bad. Sarcastic, yes, sometimes scary, yes, but also entertaining to speak with. After another sequence of walking with no talking, he looked to her again and asked,

"You aren't just here to think, are you?"

She laughed, turning around and walking backwards. "You're too dem smart for your own good, Asher. 'Course I'm not just thinking." She stopped, which caused her partner to halt, as well. "Once again, I come to _attempt_--not that I use _attempt_ as a derogatory term for islands now--_attempt_ to pillage and plunder. Already it looks bleak, but it's worth a try, eh?" Asher shook his head. He had to agree with her, islands/towns/sometimes-even-villages didn't have much in the way of loot anymore. Pity.

"Hencetoforth, as I run off to rifle and loot, I'll have to ask you to stay here. Don't take it personally--but I work solo for this. I will, however, return and discuss with ye the fruit--if any--of me labors. Ye know…asking what to throw out, what to keep."

"Yeah, I get it." A short laugh. "I'll just wait here then. Take your sweet time, cap'n." She nodded, some half-cocked grin across her face. It seemed that the only thing that kept her thoughts away from Adrian was stealing things. She turned and slunk off to…well…steal…things.

Five minutes after she disappeared into the shadows, presumably to search in solitude and secrecy for a place to shoplift, a man (who had been watching the two of them since they had stepped off the ship) tapped Asher on the shoulder as he stood in the deserted clearing several feet from the road. Asher turned and was surprised to see a man with sandy hair and harsh gray eyes. The newcomer smiled coldly at him.

"…Do you need something?" Asher asked, wondering why the man had walked over to _him_, as opposed to someone else in the town--I mean, he _was_ standing in a clearing on the side of the road somewhere.

"Yes, I do--I was hoping…are you acquaintances with Captain Frost of the Death Lily? Perhaps, do you know…a man named Asher?" The man looked vaguely suspicions, with his cool smile and frozen eyes. There was something wicked about him.

"Ah, yeah, that's me, Asher." How did he know who he was? "May I ask who _you_ are?" The guy was a complete stranger--to know his name was a small question taken out of a mass of question swirling around in his cranium.

"Most call me Drew."

Bam. He knew that name. "Ohh, you're that guy Talia is always talking about. The stalker." The man, now known as Drew, didn't seem to take offense to his belittling comment about him being a stalker. He smiled wider, actually.

"I daresay she speaks highly of me?" It shouldn't have been a question, what with his wording, but he mad it one anyway. _What?_ Asher thought. _Is he thinking of the same Talia who told me how much she hated Drew and told me what she actually _said_ to Drew that one day when she had thrown her knife at him?_ Baffled, Asher shook his head and cocked one eyebrow.

"Um…no. She…uh…she hates you, actually." He didn't seem to take offense to this either.

"Ah, but she jests!" _It's worse than she described! He _is_ totally clueless!_

"Listen, if you're looking for Talia, she's not here right no--"

"No! My friend, I am looking for _you_. You see…I would like to challenge you, the victor earns Talia."

"What??"

"And the fighter, my opponent, must be you, you see, for you are a rival for her affections." Eloquently put, yes, but not at all true. Asher was no rival to _Talia's_ affections.

"Uhm…Drew? What are you talking about? Talia's only affections are for her ship and her knives. Possibly violence…her brother and her uncle in a family sort of way…and…well, blood." He laughed a little. All the things he said were true, most assuredly, but Drew's reaction was that of someone who hadn't heard what had been said at all. Elegantly (…sort of…okay, not really, but Drew would have said it was elegant), Drew pulled out his sword and, with an air of false respect, took a fighting (sort of) stance. Asher frowned, bewildered to no limits, then shrugged, still with a puzzled look. "Well…okay…then…" He, too, drew his sword. "If it's a fight you want, it's a fight you'll get."

- - - - -

Talia slipped inside a pawn shop of sorts and took a good, long look around. Not much of interest, really. A few nice clocks, a couple articles of fine clothing (but nothing compared to things that were at a steeper price), and another person prowling the shelves with feigned interest.

"Need anything, deary?" Talia spun to stare at the owner of the ship--a crotchety-looking old woman with a happy shine in her eyes and a very grim expression otherwise--and her first reaction was to kill her after telling her not to call her 'deary.' But she reconsidered, smiled, and shook her head. Since she had seen nothing she wanted, she slipped back out the door, avoiding the old woman (she was really creepy to tell the truth).

The next store looked more promising. Inside, the walls were adorned with gold-decorated merchandise and the building itself was littered with prim-looking women with big, fancy, and pastel-colored hats.

Sick.

Anyway, Talia saw potential, so she seized her bag (she had taken off her outer jacket and made a makeshift bag out of it so she had somewhere to keep her stolen stuff) and snuck around the store, stashing expensive things away out of sight.

Pleased with her selection, she hastened out of the ship to avoid being spotted, then found a new desolate spot to review her profit--she tossed three out of seventeen objects, considering that all that stuff was sort of irritating to haul around and here where a few things she could do without. Now all set to continue plundering, she packed her things and began another search for a decent store.

Half an hour later, twenty-six things were crammed into Talia's not-so-big jacket-bag (which was getting pretty heavy) and she was ready to return to Asher. After finding her sense of direction, she made a beeline to the clearing in which her friend awaited her.

Something wasn't right when she arrived at the clearing. As she looked around, all she saw was shops and palm trees. Frowning, she dropped her bag. "Asher?" She suddenly became aware of a sort of darkness. She looked to the sky, which was no longer blue and cheery--it was a cold gray. She frowned more profusely. "What…?"

She saw something in the corner of her eye. It caught her attention and drew her gaze to the ground. A saber, the tip just barely red, was lying in the grass. From there, her eyes followed trampled grass to see Asher lying face flat on the ground. She swallowed hard. She blinked rapidly, dulling her vision just barely. She had seen so many as he was now--she prayed that he wasn't…

The grass below his head and neck was stained a darker color. Her hand flew instinctively to her mouth. "No--!" Asher was dead.

Not another one, not another loss. First her parents (though it was a while back), then her brother, now her friend and first mate--_what next, Sarah?_ She thought unconsciously, sinking to the ground with her eyes still fixated on her friend. Droplets of rain came and began to leave dark spots on her clothes. It couldn't be happening, it just couldn't. She simply could not accept it.

"Something wrong, Talia?"

She turned swiftly, immediately recognizing the voice. Drew stood with a false, sympathetic look drawn across his narrow face and a blood splashed saver in his hand; clear evidence of Asher's killer. She stood, glaring savagely at him, then, with speed so blinding you probably wouldn't have been able to see her, she dashed over to Drew and wound her fingers, adorned with her ever-long nails, around his neck.

What with all the screaming coming from Talia in statements of how much she hated him, how badly she wanted him to die, and how painful his death would be (It was sort of a release of all her bottled hate for him, triggered by his murder of her friend--yes, he brought it all on himself. He shouldn't have stalked her, shouldn't have continually bothered her after she told him to bug off, and shouldn't have…well, in Talia's opinion, as well as a lot of other people's opinions, too, been born. Her hate, though, was usually not this intense.), several guards, as well as townspeople, began to gather around, attracted by the ruckus. One of the guards broke Talia way from Drew with great effort and struggled to hold her back as she screamed, "He killed my friend!! _He killed my friend!!_" She pointed, shaking with rage, at where Drew had been standing when they broke her away, only seconds ago.

But when they looked, Drew was gone like half-heard voices.


	15. In the Dark of the Night

Okay! Chapter 15! I'm only writing this at the beginning so everyone knows, at the end, that is really true about Jack's arm. If you have the two-disc version of Pirates of the Caribbean, and have watched the deleted scene entitled No Truth At All (or something like that), you'll know that it's true. It's just a neat little thing that I felt like putting in. So don't tell me that I made it up--I didn't!

Thank you for reading!

- - - * - - -

Sarah and Jack, noticing the chaos both from the ship and from the tavern, had to come and claim Talia, calming her down (hardly) and explaining her to the guards with a most clever (and sort of half-baked) lie about her being sick of mind and upset about seeing the dead body (which had surprised and appalled the two newcomers, seeing as it was Asher, and they liked Asher). After barely escaping the guards, they hurried Talia off to her ship and, after locking her in her room (and removing all of the sharp things in it) so that she didn't get out and begin slaughtering random people in her temporary madness, reported the first mate's fate to the rest of the crew.

Every hour, one of the crew (well…either Ryan, Chess, Sarah, or Jack, that is) would go and check on Talia, listening through the door for signs of sedation. By the seventh hour (Ryan was checking), she had fallen asleep. But they didn't unlock her door (Talia was clever, she could be faking it). The following morning, they dared to open her door, but she merely stared at them blankly from her bed, her black eyes half visible beneath her slightly darker-shaded eye-lids.

The whole day was slow. Talia almost seemed to be lapsing back into her sickness-driven lethargy from the Consumption spread. When approached about it, she bared gave an answer. No on could blame her, though; after all, even the crew was relatively depressed at the loss of two crew members (especially those who had known Asher and Adrian well--you know who I mean).

After a while, Sarah, Jack, Chess, and Ryan plotted to cheer up Talia, all of them upset at seeing their captain in such a manner, but their numerous attempts were swiftly obstructed.

First, they came and proposed a card match, which triggered the slow blinking of Talia's eyes. She then grimaced and crossed her arms. "No thanks." Of course, her manners and vague politeness in her reply were more surprising than her actual reaction, but…well, they left, disappointed, to reform and think of a new idea.

Next, they came and asked if she wanted to practice fighting, or throwing knives or something, which she declined to. "No." She tapped her long fingernails on the side of the ship, staring at the sky, which was, by the way, a more grayish-blue that seemed to roll about and change in a lazy manner. "Maybe later," She added. The group glanced at each other with doubtful expressions, then turned to once again think up a new plan.

Finally, they approached and lied to her, claiming that some random invisible had snuck into her room. This likely would have worked, had she not discovered their lie, remember that she had "locked the door _immeasurably_" and therefore not a single person could enter, save for herself.

Curses. Foiled again.

They slunk off once more and struggled to devise another (not so) brilliant scheme to bring the captain back to her sunny, or rather, _burning, fiery _disposition that everyone was _oh_ so familiar with. Unfortunately.

It didn't go well. Not one of the four could think of something that would even budge Talia. Eventually, they kicked Justin into shouting, "Land ho!," but that there was no response from Talia except a small glance and a roll of her eyes. At least it was a hint at her sarcastic personality coming back. Thank goodness.

It was near sundown when Sarah finally got sick of thinking up something that would work. She grabbed Jack (who was actively protesting in a noisy manner) by the arm and dragged him up to Talia, who was now tapping her fingernails on the wood in an ear-pleasing rhythm. Sarah tapped her on the shoulder and, to her surprise, got her to turn all the way around and look at her. Her expression was a mingled look of annoyance and mild depression (more catatonic, really)--although, there was a very faint hint of fury in her eyes, likely there from being interrupted while tapping.

"Talia, want to plunder with up--"

"Actually, I think I'll opt out--" Jack tried to object, scared of Talia, no matter how blank she was.

"--plunder with_ us_?"

Talia masher her mouth around, seeming to consider it, then shrugged. "No." She gestured to her make-shift bag, which was still sitting on deck, daring someone to look through it. _Maybe someone _should_ look through it--it might get Talia to hurt someone. Is that a good thing or a bad thing?_ Sarah thought absentmindedly. "I've already got what I wanted." She looked off somewhere in the distance.

"For the love of scary cannibalistic natives…Talia, why're you being this way?" Although this question was not a ploy to get Talia to do something skeptical, she did anyway and Sarah was sort of happy about it. She gave the two in front of her one of her famous my-if-it-were-more-more-obvious-a-rat-could-understand-it looks. Clearly she was acting that way because of the loss of Adrian and Asher. Sarah knew that already. "Come on, d'you really think they'd want you to do this? Look, the invisibles are practically running amok!" All three looked--most of the invisibles were standing around, doing nothing. "See? Slackers!"

Talia sort of looked about to react, but she just looked away, still mashing her mouth around thoughtfully. Finally, Jack spoke up, holding up a hesitant index finger.

"Ahh…we don't necessarily need to _plunder_--we could sit around and drink rum." Both women stared at him--he felt very vulnerable. He never would have guessed that his comment would be the one that caught Talia off guard and allowed Sarah to seize her by the arm and drag her off the ship.

Jack led them to the pub that he had been lounging in before Talia's crowd-and-soldier drawing outburst. At first glance, it looked incredibly seedy. It looked incredibly seedy at second, third, fourth, and fifth glance, too. It _was_ incredibly seedy. He pushed open the door, which creaked horridly, and made a path to an empty table. They sat down and Talia immediately tried to stand up. She didn't have her _own_ rum. They both grabbed her hands and pulled her back into her seat.

"You'll live," Sarah said.

"I refuse to drink any drink at all that isn't me own," She said, slamming her fist on the table. Good. Her temper was coming back.

"No one is going to poison your rum, Miss Frost," Jack put in.

"I'm not drinking anything, mark my words." She finished firmly, crossing her arms and glaring lethally at anything she could see.

- - - - -

Lots and lots of very large amounts of rum later, Talia's inane cackling could be heard half-way across the tavern and it was beginning to get irritating.

The two (Sarah and Jack) had somehow gotten her to drink (though they weren't exactly sure how) and were now suffering the consequences. Jack's chin was cupped in his hand as he watched Talia to make sure she didn't a) get angry and kill someone or b) make one of the wench/waitresses run off crying as Talia's loud and obnoxious giggling drove people insane.

There was suddenly a greatly audible thud. Jack turned to see Sarah with her forehead slammed against the surface of the table. _She's down for the count_. He thought with an amused smile. Talia, on the other hand, stared blankly at Sarah for a moment, then burst out in another fit of laughter.

After a while, she began to shout random words at the wench/waitresses who passed by, such as "kumquat," "snow," "aardvark," and sometimes "magrydramyle." which everyone suspected to be a made-up word. Which it most definitely was.

At length, Jack was beginning to loose what little sanity he had left, so before it could get any worse, he stood and somehow pulled Talia to her feet. She started laughing again. "Let's get you back to the Death Lily, Miss Frost."

"Miss who?"

"Come on," He started to push her toward the door, since she was just sort of standing there, swaying a bit on her feet, but she swiveled around, and, teetering a little, pushed his hands away.

"Geroff! I can get back on me own, ye yellow kumquat ambledrygad!" He backed off and watched as she stumbled to the door, laughing at random people. Jack sighed. _I hope she doesn't get hit by a cart or something._ He thought randomly. He turned to face the unconscious Sarah.

"Oh. Right." Looking around for a second, he somewhat reluctantly scooped up Sarah and carried her awkwardly out of the tavern.

Not too far ahead, Talia was meandering in a zigzag pattern in the general direction of the docks. Following close behind, Jack walked, carrying Sarah, all the way back to the Death Lily, supervising Talia, who was _still_ laughing at things. She was starting to laugh at doors.

When on the Death Lily, itself, she tripped twice on the stairs, both times recovering quickly and continuing to amble down the stairs. Finally, she toyed with the maniacal lock on her door until in opened, then walked inside. Jack closed the door with mild difficulty, then made his way to Sarah's room.

He set her down on the bed, mind occupied by what Talia was going to do to him if she ever found out what she had been doing (making a fool of herself) that night, but something sort of made him wake up and jump out of his thoughts.

Sarah was staring at him with bleary eyes and she had one hand resting on his left forearm, which was laced with scars from one of his past excursions. It was usually covered with his sleeve. Clearly, she could feel where the marks were and by the dim, yet mystified, expression on her face, she was obviously confused.

"Jack…what's that" She murmured. She was only half awake, and it was greatly visible. He smiled and moved her hand to rest on her stomach. He watched her eyes blink slowly, then close.

"For another day, love." He headed to the door, looked back once more at the now-unconscious/sleeping-again Sarah, smiled again, then left to return to the Black Pearl. Talia's laughing had given him a headache (so had the rum, sort of).

Before collapsing on his bed, he looked thoughtfully at the scars on his left arm. He tiredly wondered if Sarah would ever bring it up again--maybe. And he'd tell her if she asked. No one had before. Then he wondered why he was thinking about this. Maybe he was just tired. Probably. Then again…

He didn't get much farther than that. He passed out right there and fortunately fell onto his bed with a loud muffled noise.

Tomorrow morning would be…interesting.


	16. Lost Soul

"Owhh, my head…" Sarah woke up to a very, very unpleasant headache. She was sitting in her bed, on top of the covers. She didn't remember getting in bed…then again, she didn't remember much about last night in the first place. All she could think of was that there was a crowded bar, a very hard table, and large amounts of rum. _Very_ large amounts of rum.

"Well, that explains me pounding headache and selective memory loss…" She muttered, slowly dropping her legs off the edge of the bed. Her boots hit the floor, making a loud noise, too strong for her head. "Ahh!" She cringed, one hand gingerly touching her right ear. "Bloody headache…" She stood up and stepped through the doorway. "With my luck, it's a migraine…" She paused in her one-sided conversation, then, as an afterthought, she added, "Then, with Jack's luck combined with mine, it will be brain fever." She smiled wryly, closing her eyes, then headed up to the deck.

The sun was very bright, even at it's low state in the east, and she had to squint in order to not walk headfirst into everything.

Thought she couldn't see much, she had to take a double-take at what she saw on deck--which was…actually, a lack. A lack of Talia. Which was strange because Talia was _always_ up first. No exceptions. Except for that once, when she hadn't been up, and Sarah went into her room to check on her. After nearly getting hit with almost everything in the room, and having her life threatened numerous times by Talia, Sarah vowed _never_ to enter Talia's room again.

This was a problem, since Sarah had no idea what else to do. Talia wasn't up, but nearly everyone else was. Spotting Ryan, Sarah approached the card-playing-fanatic and spoke;

"Ryan--have you seen Talia?"

"Talia?" He asked. The way he said it, it either sounded as if he knew more than one Talia, or as if he had no idea who Talia was. "No, I haven't. You don't think she's…"

"Sleeping? Don't know…afraid to check, if you know what I mean."

Ryan raised his eyebrows very high, then shrugged. "Yeah…well, if she is, someone will have to wake her." He rocked on his heels for a moment, watching the sea, then glanced back at Sarah. "Not me."

Sarah's headache had suddenly just gotten nastier, and her personality along with it. What luck. Hoping her mood wouldn't fluctuate all day, she rolled her eyes, exasperatedly. Her head's condition did not exactly allow for arguments, so she took Ryan's hint to go see what was up with Talia, and turned away from him. Having to go _near_ Talia's room was bad enough. Going _in_ it was like facing death--actually, it _was_ facing death.

Groaning, she trudged down the stairs to Talia's quarters. Far from thrilled, and closer to raw fright, Sarah cautiously neared the door. _Please don't kill me, please don't kill me…I value my miserable life…sort of…_ She prayed, very slowly opening the door. And…

There was nothing. Talia did not jump up, cry like a savage, then start hurling things at her, nor did she begin screaming profanity. She did nothing, because she was not in the room.

"T…Talia??" Sarah asked, now very puzzled, which hurt her brain. Where could she be? She _had_ gotten home from last night's tavern excursion…hadn't she?

She decided that, if anyone knew, it had to be Jack (since he had been awake that night, and she had not). Jack, who would most assuredly make her mood even worse with his complicated and random speeches. She could already feel her headache getting worse. As much as she was disinclined to talk to him, it had to be done. Now very sour for a number of reasons, she lazily headed over to the Black Pearl, which was buzzing with life in a similar manner to the Death Lily.

To annoy her further, Jack was not on deck either. "Oh what joy." She growled, grinding her teeth and surveying the ship. Her eyes fell upon Mr. Gibbs, who was standing casually near the side, and she walked over.

"Where's Jack?"

Gibbs turned around. "Sa--I mean, Pandora?" He frowned. "What are you doing here?"

Sarah's attitude this morning was not in the mood to suffer brainless, as well as pointless, questions, and so she narrowed her eyes and lowered her head.

"_Where_ is _Jack_, Gibbs?" She asked, her voice very low. He stepped back, a little nervously.

"…Sleeping, I believe. But you shoul--"

Sarah was already gone.

"JACK SPARROW!!"

Jack woke with a start, then fell out of his bed, his head hitting the floor first. "Wha--?" He sluggishly recovered from his fall and looked around.

Sarah glared at him from the doorway. It apparently really irked her that he was asleep. "G'morning, sleeping beauty." She said, a very purposely brummagem smile on her face.

"Ah--Sarah. What brings a lovely…ehh…person…like you out here at this hour?" He blinked one eye, then the other. Then both at the same time. He sat up, looking a bit confused.

"Don't try me today, Jack. I'm most _definitely_ not in the mood." She crossed her arms. Jack smirked and shifted his position, so that he was now sitting cross-legged on the floor, his hands on his feet.

"Really? Oh, that's a refreshing change of pace."

She smiled again, sarcastically, and shrugged one shoulder briskly.

"And I was so hoping that you'd warm up to me today…I had so much planned…horseback riding…poetry…walks on the beach…after all," He held up two fingers, now grinning broadly. "even harsh, ill-tempered lowlifes such as one Sarah Warren need a break or two."

She stared for a moment, anger building, then walked over, seized him by the collar yet again, and picked him up. She set him on his feet, brushed him off, backed away by a few inches, then slapped him very hard.

"Right. I get it. No crossing you today. Alright."

Sarah turned and sat on his bed, arms crossed again. She was now focusing intently on the floor in front of her. Jack arched an eyebrow and sat down on the bed--as far away from her as he could get.

"And if you don't mind me asking…" He began. She didn't react. "What's put you in such a bad disposition?"

She rolled her eyes. "I have the worst headache of my life." She said. She looked quite irritated, now that she didn't look so furious.

Jack chuckled a little. "And rightfully so. If you had actually _seen_ the amounts of rum you consumed last night, love, you'd have a worse headache than this! Ah, but Talia probably has it worse…"

"Eh," Sarah held up a finger. "Speaking…of Talia…do you know where she is?"

"…No, why? Isn't she on the Death Lily?"

"Where did you last see her?"

"Watching her amble her way back to her ship. What's this about?"

She pursed her lips and drew herself up for a moment. Flashing a brief look of worry and confusion, she sighed. "Err, well, she's not awake and on deck…and she's not in her room…so…umm, we're not…exactly sure where she is."

Jack frowned. "…Ah. I see. And you have no idea where she is?"

"None. Could this be bad?"

"Perhaps we should search the town and look for hints or clues as to where she might have gone." His expression was that of sage-like thought, his eyes narrowed, and his hand stroking his beard. Sarah stared at him. It was creepy to watch him do that. Opening her mouth, she stood up and turned around to face him.

"Well, in that case, we should probably get going."

"Okay."

- - - - -

Talia opened one sleep-blurred eye on to a shadowy figure set on a white background. For a moment, she thought she was dead. Then, as her vision became clearer, she realized it was a man with a bright blue sky behind him. She frowned. The man was not Ryan, was not Chess, was not Jack (thank heavens), and was most assuredly not Asher or Adrian (unless she really WAS dead). Maybe it was Sarah (so Sarah wasn't a man, but Talia couldn't see well at the moment)… Finally her vision reached it's peak of quality and she realized that the man was Drew. It took a few seconds for this to sink in, what with her secondary realization of what had likely happened the night before (yeah--she had gotten VERY drunk), but when it _did_ finally sink in, she jerked upright from where she was slouched against a crate.

"What the--!" She found, as she bolted forward, that her hands and feet were bound together. She was also tied to the crate behind her, which meant that, when she jerked up into a somewhat vertical position, she slammed backwards against the crate.

"Good morning!" An all-too-happy smile from Drew.

"Where am I!?" She demanded. At the moment, she understood no concepts except that she was tied to a crate, being stared down by Drew. And she was angry about it. At least she wasn't depressed anymore.

"Well, last night, you see, you got very drunk and stumbled home to your ship, collapsing on your bed and, at the same time, falling asleep. Jack, who was on your ship, talking Sarah him, who had fallen unconscious at the tavern, left soon after and my men and I came and spirited you away from your bed. And now, here you are, on my ship."

She stared at him. It was a lot to take in. He seemed to notice her blank expression and tried taking another approach on telling the events of the night before.

"Umm…we kidnapped you."

"YOU _WHAT_!?"

The crew then had the pleasure of listening to Talia spurt a lovely string of swear words that would have been comparable to an old, crusty sailor who has been sailing all of his life through vats of wet tar and has gone half insane from the unbearable, inescapable frustration. Or something like that. After that point, several of the crew members began to take on an invisible sort of demeanor, what with being scared of her.

She stayed tied on the crate that day.

- - - - -

Sarah and Jack took it upon themselves to search the town for Talia, checking in all the more likely places first (stores with good merchandise, taverns, and…okay, that's about it, but there were many stores), then checking people's houses, the jail, random clearings, and this little cave they found that was filled with lovely flowers and small animals--of course, it was only after they checked there that they realized the small animals would be dead, had Talia been there. Confused, they returned to the Death Lily to tell Ryan and Chess.

"Uh…have either of you seen Talia since I last asked?" Sarah asked. Ryan pocketed his cards and frowned. Chess, who was at the helm, raised his eyebrows and shrugged.

"Why do you ask?" Ryan asked. He looked around.

"…Because we don't know where she is."

He glanced at Chess. "She's not in her room?" Sarah and Jack shook their heads.

"Is she in the town?" Chess inquired. Another shaking of heads. "…Well that can't be good." He stepped down from the helm and took a seat on a nearby crate.

"She couldn't have been _kidnapped_, could she?" Jack's voice sounded doubtful--after all, it _was_ Talia, and she was more likely to kill herself than be kidnapped. The kidnapper would never make it within six feet of the raging Captain Frost.

Ah, but they were forgetting one important thing--last night, Talia was out cold from the rum at the tavern. Not good. As soon as the group realized this, a shockwave of horror shook through them. You see, they reasoned, if the person who kidnapped her knew about her tendencies, it was almost certain that they would take extreme measures to assure that Talia couldn't break free and slaughter someone. Great.

"So what do we do?" By now, all the invisibles were paying attention. They may have been frightened by the captain, but her absence still distressed them. They, too, wanted to know the plan.

It seemed likely that the kidnapper would stay in the Caribbean, but for both ships to go to every port in the Caribbean, looking for Talia, was just plain tedious, so they decided that the ships would go solo. They'd split up the islands and check them separately. Eventually, one of the ships would have to find her, then they'd travel around to find the other ship. It sounded sort of confusing, but it wasn't.

Sarah was to travel with Jack, since that way, he'd have someone to keep him on track (also, behind the scenes, Sarah wanted to go with Jack in the first place). Each ship would leave in the morning.

They all hoped for luck, which was bound to be scarce.

- - - - -

When darkness fell about Drew's ship, stars twinkling and blue moonlight splashing about the deck, Drew approached Talia with the intent of somehow (and this was a stupid thing for him to do) feed Talia, as she was still tied to the crate.

It didn't go well. She practically bit the end off of the spoon he offered to her (with food on it, obviously). Not only that, but the fact that she was growling at him sort of drove him away. Smiling nervously, he commanded another guy to go feed her (by now, wondering if ship, herself, would rather starve). That guy wound up missing part of his hand, screaming and running around the ship.

Again, it didn't go well.

Whenever Drew tried to approach Talia, she would either lash out verbally, using large, insulting, degrading words, or she would kick bother of her bound feet forward with all the force she could muster. One unfortunate time, he did this strange thing where, reaching his hands out to her face, he proclaimed his great love for her. Her response left Drew howling in pain from the deep, deep bit mark on his index finger.

"Right! I'll just stay over here, then!" He called from just out of her kicking range. Glaring at him from her spot on the deck, she amused herself with lovely thoughts of mangling him.

Later into the night, still staring menacingly at Drew, Talia realized that (Oh yeah, her drunken sort of stupor was gone now.) she was devoid of her knives. This did not have a positive effect on her.

"WHERE ARE MY KNIVES, YOU FREAKISH, BULBOUS-HEADED, WRETCHED, WRETCH!?!?" Drew fell over.

"Uhh…we were afraid you'd use them to escape and possibly hurt someone, so we took them away." Despite how scary and violet Talia was, Drew, in his twisted little mind, felt that it was very much worth the suffering and crushing insults. Then again, only Drew thought that; the rest of his crew found her to be terrifyingly volatile and none of them would so much as look at her. It was _only_ the _first day_.

- - - - -

The following morning, Jack stole Sarah (still half asleep) from the Death Lily, after wishing good luck to Talia's crew, and dragged her over to the Black Pearl. About an hour after that, they set sail for their first destination--ironically, Tortola (If you don't remember, Tortola was where Talia and Jack had made their first agreement). The trip was slow, the sky was blue, and Jack, having borrowed a deck of cards from Ryan, spent the majority of the journey playing "War" with Sarah as they spoke of destinations. The rest of the crew would have participated, but hardly any of them knew what was going on (they didn't listen to Jack and Sarah when the explained it).

Tortola hadn't changed. Actually, not at all, in a very literal sense. The group of gossiping women were still standing a little ways off from the docks, spitting poison in each other's ears, the guy who had had his eye gouged out by Talia when he cracked a pointless and stupid joke was standing outside the Flintlock Pub, an eye patch now gracing his face. Essentially, the only thing that had changed was that the Death Lily was not in the harbor. Rightfully so. This was the Pearl's stop.

Every place on the island, every little alley, every small attic, was searched for Talia (even though some places were unbelievably unlikely), but she wasn't found. They, that is, Sarah and Jack, asked every person about a red haired woman with a nasty attitude and a penchant for tossing knives, but no one knew what they were talking about. One man did mention a red haired woman, though. Unfortunately, it turned out the man was talking about his sister's best friend, who's favorite thing was feeding the birds, so she was ruled out (unless Talia had some sort of weird alter ego or split personality or something).

After a while, Sarah found herself missing Jack. She looked around the immediate area, but found no trace. That only meant one thing. Making a beeline for the nearest tavern, she entered to see Jack sitting at a table near where the bartender was standing. She stormed over and tapped him on the back.

"O-oh! Hi Sarah."

"Don't make me slap you." He cringed. "Come on." She ignored his protesting and pulled him out of his chair by the shirt. He wasn't very good at struggling, really.

Before they could reach the door, the bartender spoke up. "Uh, miss, he can't leave, he hasn't paid yet!" Sarah turned let go of Jack and stared at him. She turned to the bartender.

"Tough luck, chum," She smiled fakely at him and turned to leave again.

"Miss, I really must object--if he leaves, I'll take it to the authorities." The guy was kind of a moron, honestly. She sighed and turned on her heel. The man had a I'm-sort-of-serious-but-something-just-might-be-able-to-change-my-mind look about his ruddy face. She narrowed her eyes. "I'm serious. I will take it to them, there are soldiers just outside." _No, I didn't _see_ them, imbecile._ She thought as she walked over coolly and faced him straight on. She pulled out her pistol, cocked it, and aimed it at his face.

"Listen. I know you want your money, but this is more important, aye? So shut up and go rob someone else of their wealth. And if you mention any of this to the soldiers, a swift death will most assuredly await you." She turned around, walked back to Jack, then turned once more. "Good day." She restored her pistol to a safer state and returned it to her belt, then she pushed Jack out the door.

"You are _supposed_ to be helping me find Talia." She said calmly. Jack had a fairly hurt expression on his face. "You took on this task _with_ me. So why were you in there?" She motioned to the tavern.

"…Aww, come on, we aren't going to find her in the next…" He paused, thinking. "…six minutes." It was almost amusing to watch him make excuses like that. It was so pathetic, it was kind of funny.

She thought for a moment. "Jack, if Talia had gone in there and dragged you out, would you be arguing with her right now?"

"No."

"And why is that?"

"Because she'd kill me if I talked back to her." Jack looked kind of afraid just thinking about it. He was probably remember her cleaver. Not fun.

Sarah smiled and stepped closer to him. "…I can be an _awful_ lot like Talia, if I need be." With that, she turned and headed back to the ship. A few seconds later, she heard Jack's footsteps behind her. She was pleased.

They checked the map when they got back.

The next destination was Port Royal.

- - - - -

"Get away from me, you slime infested goat stomach!!" Talia screamed as Drew tried to give her food again. She was not only miserable from being near Drew for more than a day, but she was furious that he had kidnapped her in the first place. He deserved to die a most painful death.

"It's better than starving!" He replied, a hint of desperation and determination echoing in his voice. She kicked him hard in the knee, which made him fall over, shouting and trying to get up with an injured limb.

No one could seem to get her to eat, so in a final act of despondency, they cleared out the quarters of one of the crew members until it was bared, dragged Talia, still tied to the crate, down to the room, then, throwing some food in, they cut her ropes and locked the door tightly. It had only been about two days (the sun had set by the time she was in the room) and se was already a hazard to the crew.

After eating, Talia stood up and looked through the small hole that had been cut near the top of the door. She glared at anyone who passed.

__

Keep pushing it, Talia, and maybe they'll kick you off the ship. The thought made her happy.

It was two more days until they reached Port Royal. It seemed like less, though. To most of the crew, it seemed unlikely that anyone would come to Port Royal with a captive (seeing as it was the home of Commodore Norrington), but Sarah and Jack wanted to check, just because. Of course, when they arrived, Jack took the initiative and immediately headed over to the home of the Turners.

Why? We may never know the actual reason.

Apparently Jack didn't care that Norrington was likely to arrest him, since he was just walking out in the open. He knocked on the door and awaited an answer. Some snotty butler person opened the door and stared with a disapproving and confused look.

"Aye. Is young Mister Turner home?" Jack asked somewhat politely. The butler turned around and went up the stairs. A few seconds later, Will came down the staircase and walked over to the door.

"Jack? Sarah?"

"Will!" Jack sounded enthusiastic. "Now, you're probably wondering why I'm here, especially after I got arrested the last time I was here. Actually both times I was here."

"Actually…yes, I was. Here, come in before Norrington or one of his men spot you." Will looked around, then dragged the two pirates inside. Several servants scurried out of the room. "Okay, go ahead."

"Well…okay. You don't have Talia in here, do you?"

A long silence.

"…_Why_ would I have Talia? She's like a powder keg and Elizabeth and I are like flames."

Another long silence.

"Sooo…d'you have her?"

"No!"

"Oh."

There was yet another long silence. The clock was ticking loudly and grating on Sarah's nerves. "Okay, Will," She finally grabbed Jack and pulled him backwards. "I'm apologizing for Jack. He has a hearing problem. And a logic one. We'll be in Port Royal for the rest of the day, so if you find out anything about our comrade, drop a line, will you?" She smiled curtly.

"Uh…okay…until then, I guess."

"Yeah."

Sarah dragged Jack out the door and into an alley. She then proceeded to scold him about wasting their time by asking someone who most _confidently_ didn't know where Talia was. Jack was starting to see what she meant by being "an awful lot like Talia." Just without the cleaver. And the Irish accent.

They returned to the Pearl (after thoroughly searching the town, mind you, and finding nothing) to plot their next objective, which was some little island that, I can assure you, you have never heard of. It looked small. Around sunset, a visitor arrived at the ship.

"Cap'n! Will's here!" Gibbs shouted from a little way off. Next to him, sure enough, stood Will, looking patient, if not out of breath. He must have been running, for whatever reason.

"Ah! Come to confess on stealing Talia?" Jack stood and walked over. Sarah followed suit.

"No." Will rolled his eyes. "One of our maids said she saw a ship I the harbor the other day. Its deck was occupied by a red haired woman who was tied to a crate of some sort. She said the captain had blond hair and a moustache."

Sarah's eyes widened and she looked at Jack. "Drew." He nodded. "Oh many days ago?" Will shrugged and told her that he wasn't too sure. That was unfortunate, but at least they had information. After vigorously thanking Will, who then found himself on the dock and off the ship, Jack commanded the crew to ready the ship to set sail. There was still light, so they could still leave that day. The next island wasn't that far, they could reach it before the morning.

- - - - -

Talia didn't like the room much. It was small, cramped, far too warm, and all she had was a box--and the food that they put through the hole in the door.

Sitting against the wall, Talia stared at the ceiling, counting boards of wood. Some random thoughts that she continually put off began to surface, like how Jack got the Black Pearls. You see, since she had always known her uncle, Barbossa, to have the Pearl (even though, in truth, Barbossa stole the Pearl from Jack), she couldn't quite figure out how Jack got the ship. Did Jack steal it from Barbossa? Did Jack kill Barbossa (she didn't know that he did, but she suspected it)? It all seemed very convoluted. She intended to question Jack about it when she got the chance.

Before she could probe further into her wonderings, she heard a knock at the door--which was stupid, because no one could come in, they just looked in at her and talked. There was really no point in knocking. She looked over. It was Drew. What a surprise. She scraped her nails against the floor, leaving long, whitish ridges.

"Hello!" His cheerful attitude was far past annoying.

"Don't you have some dying to do?" He ignored her.

"Thought you'd want your food--" He lowered her plate, hanging from strings, to the floor, then he let go of the strings. "--and I just came to chat."

"I don't _want_ to chat, you ninny. I'd rather you go impale yourself on a sharp thing with nails on it," She sneered. He _always_ wanted to chat.

"Well, that's not nice. I suppose I'd be upset with me, too, though, if I were you!" He laughed. It sounded fake, but she knew it wasn't. What a weirdo. "Any rate…I thought you might possibly want to know where we're headed."

She rolled her eyes. "_Why_ would I want to know where we're headed? It's not like I could _tell_ someone." Drew just plain didn't think, that was his problem. Really, he just sort of said whatever and didn't think about it. She didn't even consider if he was just like that because he loved her…or whatever he did.

"Still, you might find it amusing." He smiled brightly. For once, she saw something cold in his expression. It was strange to see, since she was so used to seeing him as a bumbling fool who wouldn't leave her alone. It didn't bother her, it was just sort of quirky. "We're off to the Isla de Muerta."

- - - - -

There was absolutely nothing at the next island, the little one that no one knew existed. The residents of the Pearl stayed there for the night, then found the next place to check--Tortuga.

The journey, again, was not long. Only about two days, and possibly a half of another. When they arrived, they cut straight to the chase and searched all over for Talia. It was very nostalgic for the two of them (again, Jack and Sarah). Sarah lamented depressively over her street corner, Jack continually ran into Scarlet and Giselle, who generally slapped him on sight. This triggered being slapped by Sarah, which hurt more, since she had rings on and the two previously mentioned whores did not. Of some humor, Sarah stepped into the tavern she had always stayed at eleven years ago, and was recognized by the bartender ("Isn't he dead yet?"). At least he remembered to call her Pandora. She promised to come back after their search, with the intent of talking and updating him on her life. Actually, she didn't want to talk with him, but she said she would anyway.

The rest of the day went slowly. Very slowly. Nothing was found, not even a hint at where Drew might have been. Maybe he hadn't even stopped in Tortuga… Maybe. In any case, the search was over relatively quickly, so the two of them returned to the bartender-acquaintance of Sarah's.

Before they could begin talking about life, Sarah asked, briefly, if he had seen a blonde man with a moustache come off a ship any time lately. "You mean your friend Drew?" Sarah had forgotten that, since the man had known her, he had known Drew, as well. Nodding, she explained that she now hated Drew. The man did not seem to care all that much. "Well, yeah, I saw him. He stopped here about two days ago, maybe. He said he was headed to someplace…oh! Right, he was headed to the Isla de Muerta."

Jack twitched. Sarah grinned. "Thank you, thank you, you don't know what this means to us." She turned and dashed to the door. "Sorry we couldn't talk longer, but I gotta go!" Jack followed her through the door and back to the Black Pearl.

When the ship had been readied for sailing, Sarah turned to Jack, who was saying something to Gibbs and eyeing Mr. Cotton warily. He was pretty creepy, honestly.

"Jack, you know how to get to Isla de Muerta, right?"

He nodded and reached for his compass, the one that pointed the way to the island, but he found an empty pocket in its place. "Where did it go?"

- - - - -

The subject of destinations now intrigued Talia. That was the island her uncle had gone to in the Pearl. As soon as Drew was gone, she immersed herself in thought. So…why did Drew, the biggest moron/best actor at being a moron, want to go to the Isla de Muerta? Aside from the cursed treasure, there wasn't a whole lot there. Talia had heard that all the treasure (save the cursed) had been taken. It was likely, too. Drew didn't know about the curse…did he? Was he going there so he could be immortal? She shuddered.

__

Great. Immortal Drew. Now I'll never_ get rid of him. Unless I kill him before he can take the treasure… After all, it's not like _I'd_ care if he was dead. Now that I think about it, probably _no one_ would care if he was dead._ She was thinking so deeply (or shallowly, depending on how you view her thoughts), that she hardly noticed the little monkey who leaped up and perched in the hole in the door. He screeched at her.

"Jack?" She turned to the monkey. Of _course_ it was Jack the monkey! She remembered his red and white shirt, and his creepy yet sweet face always hovering somewhere near her uncle's shoulder. She loved that monkey. Jack jumped down and darted over to her, his wide-eyed face staring up at her from his crouched position.

You see, Jack (of the monkey variety) liked Talia because she was related to Barbossa. Somehow, Jack had figured out that Talia would be with Drew, so, being the clever little bugger he was, he swiped Jack's (of the Sparrow variety) Isla de Muerta compass and brought it to her. She was still unconscious when he reached Drew's ship, though, so he gave the compass to Drew. Talia must have realized _all_ of this when the little monkey held out the compass.

She thought it was sweet. And she didn't think that often.

So, at least she had a friend on that stupid ship. Sure, she didn't understand what Jack was saying when he screeched at her or made cute little squeaking noises, but it was better than Drew. _Anything_ was better than Drew.

The morning after that, Talia was awakened with a sharp smack over the head with something hard. When she awoke from _that_, she founder herself tied almost insanely tightly at the wrists and ankles. She was being carried onto the island. Oh what humiliation. She made sure to point out to Drew the cowardice of his actions (i.e., the knocking out while sleeping, the tying). Inside the cavern (complete with cursed treasure, oars from boats, and an unrecognizable-at-first-glance decaying corpse), Talia was set (oh how horrible, she was being treated like a piece of furniture) against a rock to watch the crew wander the cave aimlessly. As Drew wandered by, he stopped and watched her (again, out of her kicking reach).

"You know, I'm surprised the monkey didn't tell you where we were going." He said, with a hint of slight enjoyment in his voice. He was smiling all lovingly at her again. It was really starting to get creepy.

"…You freak, I can't speak _monkey_." She hissed, gritting her teeth and watching him through narrowed eyes.

He tilted his head, a new, innocent, confused sort of look now dawning on his features. "Oh…I thought everyone could…" He looked as if he wished to ponder such a statement for a while longer, so he wandered off away from Talia (and there was much rejoicing). _I _hope_ my friends are looking for me. Being tied up is bad enough, but tied up in a room with _Drew_ is murder._

- - - - -

There was one more island for the Black Pearl to check, but, seeing as there was a good three days on the docket for traveling in order to reach the Isla de Muerta (By the way, Jack didn't _need_ to compass to get to the island--he had memorized the location--it was just easier to find with the compass), they decided to skip it and head straight to their target.

As she sat on the deck of the Pearl, Sarah watched Jack sit and play Solitaire and tried to say what was running through her head. Every time she attempted to talk to Jack and bright it up, she would fumble and turn away. Who knew it would be so difficult…to say…

"Sarah?" He noticed her watching him. It probably creeped him out. "Something wrong?" She shook her head. No, nothing wrong--just emotional struggle, no biggie, though. "Come on, play War with me." She moved over in front of him and he began dealing the cards.

"So Jack…tell me what happened after--and why--you marooned me on that island." He laughed a little and a card slipped out of his hand. Picking it up and tucking it into the half of the deck that hadn't been dealt yet, he resumed splitting the cards.

"Well…first off, I did it because Barbossa lied to me, as I later found out. He told me that the crew was going to commit mutinee if I didn't remove you--he lied, Bootstrap told me."

"Will's father?"

"Yup. Anyway, I wouldn't have done it if it hadn't been for that, I swear." She nodded. She believed him. Hearing it made her feel better. "So…after that…we stopped at one more island to pick up a few more crew members, then we set off for, well, ironically enough, Isla de Muerta. Didn't get far, though. Three days out, Barbossa comes to me again, something new to say. See, I hadn't told the crew where the island was. Figured it didn't quite matter.

"Right, so, he comes to me an' tells me everything is in full share, which would, by default, include the location of our destination. I dunno why I believed him, since he had lied to me once before…it may have had something to do with thinking he just lied because he didn't like women, but he was trustworthy otherwise…ahh, well…anyway… Sooo…I told him. Bloody stupid thing to do, there was a mutinee that very same night. The even more ironic thing was that they marooned me on the same island that I--or rather, Barbossa told me to maroon you on. You weren't there, though--how'd you get off?"

She stared for a moment, then shrugged. She honestly had absolutely no clue. She didn't remember how she got off, she just remembered that it had happened. "You know what's weird, though…"

"What?"

"Well, Talia is Barbossa's niece, right? That's crazy, you're in a negotiation with a relative of a person who lied to you twice, then marooned you and stole your ship, and I'm _working_ for a relative of a person who exposed me as a woman on your ship, then convinced you to maroon me." They both raised their eyebrows. "That's kind of ironic in itself."

They set a few cards, "warred" with the cards (Sarah won), then continued. "You know, I think we'll end up celebrating once we get Talia back--likely by killing Drew, which will end the negotiation," Sarah pointed out, chuckling and setting down a card.

"Probably." He laughed. "However, for now, we should relax, take load off. We'll be fighting tomorrow, we might as well lighten up." He set down his cards and stretched his arms behind his back. Sarah grinned and agreed. Leaning his head against the side of the ship, arms now resting behind his head, Jack grinned, as well. "Eat, drink, be merry--tomorrow, you might be dead!"


	17. Family Ties

It may have just been the impending nature of the venture that Jack and Sarah were on (well…sort of impending), but it seemed to them that the sky, which was a steel sheet-like magnet that drew gloom like thieves to jewels, and the earth beneath their very feet was straining to crush the duo in nature's glorious fury--for what reason, it could not be said, but it felt like the sky moaned and the sands rumbled the moment our heroes stepped foot on the beach of the Isla de Muerta.

Dramatic, isn't it?

Jack shuddered outwardly as they drudgingly carried onward to where Drew had taken Talia. If the maid was correct. Which they were hoping. Lots.

"What?" Sarah inquired, noticing his slight convulsion.

"Ah…it's just this _island_…I hate it here. Sometimes…" He paused to think about all the cursed treasure he _knew_ lay in wait inside the caves of the island, then remembered the dead body which _also_ lay in wait, probably rotting away in the sea air, and recoiled again. "Anyway…ohh." He shuddered again.

"You've been here?"

"Aye, didn't you notice the name? Isla de Muerta? This is the Isle of the Dead, love. _This_ is where the cursed treasure of Cortez lies."

"Ohh…so this is…" She drifted off into silence, looking up at the higher peaks of the island, wondering silently where the captain of the Death Lily was. It was now that she realized the sky's nature--cloudy. It would be important. Unless…unless it rained, in which case…

A thought dawned on Jack. "Hey…you don't think Drew…knew about the cursed treasure…do you?"

Sarah waved a hand distractedly. "Nah. He's far too dull-witted to be that clever--besides, he doesn't have time to hear gossip, what with following us to _every island_." Jack had to agree--he didn't seem like the brightest crayon in the box, that was for sure. "Anyway, Drew's probably too wrapped up in his most dearly beloved, rabid, scarlet-haired banshee to think about a trivial thing like immortality."

As they drew nearer to the cave that held Talia and also the cave that Jack _knew_ held a dead body that he most _definitely_ did not want to see, he mentioned lightly that they would either have to swim to reach the cave entrance or climb around on sea-slick rocks on a cliff. Neither of which sounded pleasant.

However, it _greatly_ surprised them when, as they arrived at the point where they would need to either swim or climb, they found a boat waiting. Puzzled, they looked at each other with wary looks, then cautiously climbed in the boat, hoping it wasn't some sort of weird trap.

There was only one oar. Which is probably why it took longer than usual to reach the interior of the cave. Jack looked around blankly as the boat hit shore (or…just shallower water). He was reliving his conversation with Will that he had had in this very cavern.

"Now what?" Sarah was glancing around. Jack pointed quietly to a small passage that led to a ledge overlooking the main cavern. They followed this passage until they could see the said cavern and were hardly surprised to see Drew, a group of guys standing around and/or wandering, and Talia, looking unhappy as always, sitting up against a rock with a monkey balanced on her shoulder.

"…Oookay, and what _now_?" She whispered. Jack looked around for a minute.

"We wait. We'll make our entrance at the opportune moment." He sounded serious for once. Odd. Anyway, the two of them sat in the alcove for what seemed like an hour, watching people walking around and do nothing. They were going to catch them off guard--how easy, they probably wouldn't suspect _anything_. All they were doing was walking around. Then, a most unfortunate thing happened.

Jack the monkey, sitting calmly on Talia's shoulder, turned, looked straight at Sarah and Jack, then screeched and pointed at them. Everyone in the cave looked at them.

"Great," Sarah muttered.

Talia looked over and frowned. "It's about dem time!" She shouted over the monkey's screaming. The two in the watching spot, of sorts, had no choice, they had to go down to the ground. They exited the watching spot, found the passage leading to the main cave, then entered slowly.

"Ah! Pandora and Jack, come to rescue my love?" Drew smiled mockingly at them and ignored Talia's cries of protest, anger, and violence at calling her "his love."

"That, and we're here to kill you." Sarah replied stridently.

"Oh? Good. I was getting bored." He raised a hand and snapped his fingers, which caused all the crew members, still rambling aimlessly, to rush forward, drawing their swords. Goody.

Drew stood back and watched the newcomers fend off the (not-so-large) crew. Turning, he looked at Talia (the monkey had run off, by the way). She was struggling to break free of her binds. He walked over and smiled at her. "Talia."

"Go _away_. Or let me go."

He kneeled down next to her (she couldn't kick him if he was sitting next to her) and pulled out a suspiciously familiar knife. Talia's anger suddenly heightened. _That was _her_ knife_. "I'm sorry, dear one, but I really can't let you go. I apologize in advance for what I'm about to do."

"What?"

Smiling apologetically, he raised the knife and stabbed Talia in the left shoulder (now you should know by now that Drew is sick and twisted). Leaving the weapon where it was, pain echoing through Talia's arm, he turned around and dew his sword, clearly intending to join the battle.

__

Evil, hateful, despicable man… Talia thought, trying to figure out what to do. She couldn't just leave the blade there, it was _horribly_ painful. Did Drew think that leaving her tied up and lodging a knife into her shoulder was protecting her? What a warped person!

Jack was the first to be confronted by Drew. This was ill-timed, because it left Sarah alone to fight the twenty-some crew members who were still able to fight.

"Drew, tell me something--what is _wrong_ with you??" Jack parried an attack and threw a rock at him. His opponent ducked the rock and slashed at Jack. Drew looked a little sadistic in the dim light--the only light source coming from a hole in the ceiling above the cursed treasure and several other smaller holes.

"Nothing--there's just something wrong with everyone else!" Now it was official--he was crazy. Just plain insane.

At long last, tired of trying to think of how to escape and get the knife out of her shoulder, Talia, feeling stupid, managed to get her teeth around the hilt of the blade and pulled it out with some moderate difficulty. From there, she somehow achieved the action of drawing her knees up to her chest and slipping her bound hands (which hurt her shoulders) underneath her feet. Finally, she cut the ropes with the dagger in her mouth, then used her newly active hands to cut the ropes on her feet. She was back in action, even with an injury. She tore a small part of her pant-leg off and wrapped it around her shoulder. At least Drew was dumb enough to stab her in the _left_ shoulder. She swiped a sword from a dead body. "You're gonna pay for that, ye spineless, tactless blockhead," She growled.

Drew noticed she was loose and viciously hacking at the crew, who actually was putting up a decent fight. He broke away from Jack, who looked confused for a second, then began assisting Sarah in the fight.

Talia found herself facing Drew. "Hmm," He smiled, still sweetly, at her. "so you escaped…how resourceful of you." He had a bright look of admiration in his eyes. How weird!

"Fool. I'll kill you for that week of torture." She was sick of him. And Drew still didn't notice that she hated his guts--but he fought back, nonetheless. It _did_ feel strange to fight someone who, the whole battle through, continually reminded you of their great love for you, though.

Sarah, who was actually defending herself pretty well, eventually ended up near the large stone chest decorated in Aztec carvings. Still in the shadows, she killed the crew member she was fighting, then, as her sword was drawn beneath the hole in the ceiling, where the light shone n from the sky, she noticed the rain falling through the open space. _Oh no…not rain…_ Cloudy was fine, but rain…she looked up at the sky. What could it bring…

"Pandora." She turned.

"Traitor."

Had Drew wanted to fight Sarah all along? Why hadn't he gone for her in the first place? But it didn't really matter. Now, Jack and Talia were warding off the crew and it was Sarah's turn to duke it out with her former friend.

Jack looked over at the duo fighting near the cursed treasure. Who would Drew approach next? He had already fought his only three adversaries. Would he return to Jack and begin the cycle again? Then _he_ felt the rain. When had _that_ started? He meant to delve further into the subject, but a crew member approached him from behind and occupied his time.

Talia saw the rain, too. By now, from seeing the rain whenever bad things had happened to her and remember Jack saying something about "rain omens," she figured rain meant bad things were to come. Not good. Had she not been fighting two other men, she would have gone to help Sarah--the quicker Drew was killed, the better things would be.

Drew, who, it was clear, did not like Sarah at all, was finding great joy in fighting her, or at least, that what it seemed. His mind was so abnormal that no one could ever really be sure (not even the author). He pulled backwards from her, however, which startled Sarah. "So, Pirate, we meet again." She didn't get it. Pirate? Obviously, of course, he knew she was a pirate--so was he!

"Yes," She replied. What did he mean?

"Let me illustrate something for you." I have known you for a long time. I helped you in Tortuga, I followed you to islands--" What he didn't point out was that he was mostly doing the island part to catch up with _Talia_, not Sarah. "--I knew a _lot_ more about you than you think I do." She frowned, unsure. _What is he doing?_ She couldn't help but wonder. He stopped fighting to tell her something useless? And…how _much_ more did he know about her than she suspected? Who…_was_ Drew, really? What was going on? Sarah's head was flooded with questions, but she managed to pay attention, too. "I have _seen_ your beginning, Pandora. Now I'll see your end."

He did it. He caught her completely off guard. He hadn't been too far away from her when he began his speech, so it only took several steps to get her within range of his blade. He stabbed forward and hit his mark.

Sarah gasped sharply. Drew's sword ran straight through her stomach. His stormy eyes locked with her blue ones as she struggled to grasp what had just happened. His cold face was set in a subtle, grim smile. He pulled the sword back out. Her head swam as her knees hit the rocks beneath her.

Jack turned just in time to see this, but couldn't believe his eyes. _No._ That was it, all of his thoughts crammed into a nutshell. _No._ It wasn't happening. _No._ It was a sick dream, induced by…oh…rum or something, the sea air, but it wasn't happening.

__

No.

Talia saw it, too. She didn't believe it either. It couldn't be another one, no more losses, please…but she couldn't deny it for long, because crew members were still trying to dismember her. Not before she dismembered them, the idiots.

Drew looked down at the woman he had lied to, betrayed, and now physically wounded. No twinge of guilt. "My sympathies, friend. You've no manner of luck at all." It almost was as if he was not human. It was certainly believable. The only thing human about him was his love for Talia. But that was pretty freakish on its own.

Jack couldn't move. It was sheer fortune that the majority (meaning two, of course) of the crew (the living and/or not mortally wounded ones) was focused on disposing of Talia. Thinking quickly, even in his shocked state, he turned jerkily to Talia, who had just slain the last of the crew. "Talia." She looked at him. "Take Sarah someplace safe. Outside." There had to be another exit besides the one that you needed a boat to use. Talia did not object. She sheathed her sword, rather, slid it in her belt, then ran up to retrieve Sarah.

Kneeling down next to her comrade, who was now laying on the ground, she strained to get a grip on Sarah (it was difficult, seeing as she had a knife wound in her shoulder). When she finally had a somewhat secure hold on her, she looked up at Drew with a stare of disgust, created from all of the hate she had for him. He never left her alone. He killed her best friend. He wounded her only female friend. He kidnapped her. He stabbed her while she was immobilized. He was a complete and utter brainless idiot who was fiercely good at being cruel. "Drew. I hope you die painfully. What goes around, comes around." She then proceeded to shuffle out of the cavern with Sarah in tow.

Jack, after watching Talia and Sarah leave, turned to Drew, who was already staring at him. "Who are you," He said. It wasn't a question, it was a command. He wanted to know. Who was this man who could be so head-over-heels foolish when around Talia and so brutally ruthless around Sarah?

"Who do you think I am, Jack?"

"Why…"

"Did I do it? Why, she shamed my family." Confusion. Shamed his family? His face must have asked how. "I told her to stay away from pirates. Did she? No. She became one. And fell in love with one." His voice harbored some excessive malice. "…What would my parents think…my family, the nobles; my sister, the pirate."

Sister?

That was new.

"But I must ask you now, Jack. Why send off your only active comrade? Do you really want to fight me alone?" His answer was no, but he didn't say it. He'd fight alone if he dem well wanted to. It was his choice. "And why?"

Jack couldn't help but smirk a little. "Son. I'm Captain Jack Sparrow--" He pulled out his blade and looked at his opponent with confidence. This was his fight. "--savvy?"


	18. Raindrops as They're Falling

Talia found a small exit from the cave that led to a very small beach with one or two trees on it and a large rock. Pulling Sarah over to the rock, simultaneously trying not to be rough with her, Talia set her down, leaning against the rock. She slipped off her jacket and made a sort of tourniquet for her. Neither of them noticed the rain that was soaking them to the bone.

"Dem that cursed man," Talia muttered as she finished tying the jacket around her friend's middle. Sarah looked at Talia, glanced at the hole in the rocks where they had come from, then returned her gaze to Talia.

"He had planned it," She said quietly. Sarah knew. Drew had been planning it from the start. As soon as he saw her with Talia and Jack, she could tell he was up to something, but she hadn't been quick enough. "E-ever since he saw me with you…and Jack…"

Talia looked up. She would never have known. Drew had just seemed _stupid_ to her. All flustered and enamored. So…had that been an act? A very _good_ act, if it was, indeed, all fake. All the more reason to hate him with every fiber in her body. "…Didn't see that coming." She shook her head. Sarah sighed loosely.

"I should have told him."

"Hmm? Told who what?"

"…I should have told Jack when I was on the Black Pearl with him, looking for you." Sarah had really, really meant to. It was so hard. Talia didn't get what she meant, though. There were millions of things to tell people every day, and many of those things, people never said.

"Sarah, whatever that was that you should have told him, I'm sure you'll be able to. He'll be back soon, really." Talia didn't know where the words coming out her mouth were coming from. Was she really saying them? Strange. "Or do you mean…because of Drew…" No answer. "Sarah?"

"…Yes." She finally answered. She knew Jack would be back. She didn't know, however, how much longer she could sit in the rain and bleed. She coughed and looked back at the cavern.

__

Oh God. Talia didn't say it out loud. She wished Jack would kill Drew quicker. _Sarah needs you, you idiot. Finish it and get out here._ He'd never hear her if she sat and tried to communicate telepathically to him, but she wanted to stay with Sarah. She needed to.

- - - - -

Jack still had questions. As he protected himself against Drew's attacks, he tried to get answers. "So--if your family disowned her, then why did _you_ befriend her? Wouldn't that--" He ducked an attack, picked up a handful of treasure and threw it at his adversary's face. "--be going against your family?"

"Isn't it obvious, Jack?" He drew his sword back then brought his blade forward, catching it against Jack's. "I never _really_ befriended her. I wanted to track her, find out how far against our family name she'd go." He broke away and jumped to a higher level of rocks. "Apparently, she'd go _very_ far."

Jack knocked Drew backwards, off the rocks, with an attack and advanced slightly. "So you acted the part of her friend to spy on her?" Drew acknowledged this as correct. "If your family disowned her, then what point is there in knowing whether or not she disgraced the family? There have to be about a hundred Warrens in the Caribbean alone. No one could tell the difference if she was related to you or not."

"It's the principal, I suppose." Drew tripped Jack, who recovered quickly and hastily pushed Drew into a wall.

"But you, yourself, are a pirate!"

"You haven't grasped this yet! You're slower than I expected--I _acted_ as a pirate. Pirates are vile and disgusting--" He was pushed into a wall again, nearly dropping his sword.

"Watch what you're saying, mate." Jack didn't like people who badmouthed pirates right to a pirate's face. They were complete morons. Have common sense, people. Pirates kill practically for fun--so why risk insulting them when they're in earshot?

"--What, can't take the verbal abuse?" He slipped away from Jack and approached him from behind. Jack dodged his sword just in time, then backed away for more attacking room.

"I don't get you--first you lie to your sister to find out if she's disgracing the family that disowned her, then you betray her to my first mate so that there was a chance of her being executed, then you go and stab her?" He threw another rock at him. "There's something wrong with you."

"Well. We all have opinions, don't we?"

He wasn't finished interrogating him yet. "And Talia?" What of that, he wondered. Was he really in love with the crazy woman? And if so, _why_??

"Ahh…Talia…" He got a dreamy look, which distracted him for a moment. "…No, my love for her was no lie…she completes me…" Insane? I think so. Drew apparently _still_, after all of her threats and attempts on his life, did not get it that she HATED HIM with a FIERY PASSION.

"Oh, then I suppose you've realized that, even if she completes you, she _really_ wants to take you apart and sort you in to separate boxes, right?" He couldn't believe that _anyone_ could be so stupid to not get the concept of even-if-I-love-you-you-might-not-love-me. It was incredibly simple. "And I suppose you've also realized that Talia is a pirate, as well."

Drew seemed like he didn't hear those last two sentences. He probably didn't. He appeared to have incredibly selective hearing.

After what felt like ages of fighting, Jack spoke again; "You know, Drew, I think it's time that you paid for the many, many bad--and stupid--things that you've done. Honestly."

Drew laughed, and it sounded cold and hateful. "Me, pay? Sure! Do that, Jack, I'd love to see it." That man had to have some incredible luck, because he sure didn't have the skill. He slashed forward, catching Jack off guard, and leaving a shallow gash across his chest. Jack stepped backwards, and, not realized that the rocks beneath him were layered, tripped and fell over on his back, dropping his sword.. Drew stepped up to him and stood at his feet. He pointed the tip of his blade at Jack. "Nice work. I'm definitely feeling the payback." What luck. Now Jack was unguarded and defenseless. Drew officially had the upper hand. "Well, Jack Sparrow, any last words?"

"Sure. I'd just like to say that you are the biggest imbecile I have ever had the misfortune to meet. You deserve worst judgment for what you have done. I only wish that Sarah would have never met you. But I suppose that's beyond reach now, eh? And this has drawn on far too long." His hand lingered near his belt, but Drew was too focused on Jack's face to notice. "So I'll end it now. G'bye Drew. It's been fun."

The tables turned. Jack pulled out his pistol and shot Drew, who was, unluckily, shot in a very deadly spot. When you aren't far away, your aiming improves. He fell backwards and died shortly after that. Jack tucked his pistol back in his belt and sighed. It was finished. Thank God. He pulled to his feet and grabbed his sword as he went to look for Talia and Sarah.

- - - - -

__

Demmit, Jack, don't tell me Drew beat you. Talia was getting irritated and a little worried. Sarah sighed heavily. "Well…you know…you stopped calling me wench, Talia." Sarah was attempting feebly to make conversation.

"Yeah," Talia laughed a little. She had stopped calling her that a while ago, but just hadn't realized it. Funny how things got overlooked sometimes. "I suppose that I did."

"…Yeah. Hey Talia?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks. For h-hiring me, you know…and…even though you used me like a possession in…th-that negotiation…" Sarah smiled, though it looked slightly strained.

"Stop, don't thank me, I know what you're doing." She did. Talia knew. Sarah knew she wasn't going to make it, so she was saying thanks before…it was too late. "You're not gonna _die_, and you can believe me, because I'm _always_ right." They both laughed a little, though it was sort of that laugh that you use when you think you should laugh but don't have the heart to.

"Sarah?" Jack appeared at the hole in the rocks. Sarah looked over and smiled again, that same, labored smile. Making his way over through the wet sand, he kneeled next to her. Talia, who watched as Jack took Sarah's hand, stood up and walked to the hole in the rocks.

"I'll leave you two alone. I'll be in here, checking to make sure Drew stays dead." It was a true excuse, she really _did_ want to make sure Drew stayed dead. Drew + alive = not good at all.

The rain didn't matter anymore. No one could feel it, they were so numb from the water and the hurt. Jack watched Sarah pull something out of her coat pocket, which had sand in it. "Jack, I…I have something to give to you." He didn't want it; he was afraid of what it might be. She placed it in the hand that wasn't holding hers.

Jack didn't need to look at it to know what it was. It was the necklace he had given her before the dance. The blue one on a ribbon. _No._ "Please…Sarah, don't give this to me…" She shook her head, eyes blinking slowly.

"It's yours. K-keep it, please." He heard what she wasn't saying. She was saying, "Keep it, please--to remember me by." He didn't want to remember her, he wanted her to stay. She could still survive, right? The wound wasn't necessarily fatal. He continued to tell himself this. She didn't have to…

"You'll make it. I promise." He said. He wasn't sure which one of them he was saying it to. _Don't…_ "It's…I…this is…" There was nothing to say, he couldn't force his voice to work. It couldn't happen like this. His hold on her hand tightened.

"…Jack…I meant to tell you…on the Black Pearl…when we were coming here…but I couldn't do it." She couldn't say it, but she had to. This was her last chance before…before she… It was just so hard. "I love you." It felt really strange. So strange, she almost didn't feel the pain from her midsection. It was impossible to tell which water droplets on her face were rain and which were tears.

That was pretty much the breaking point for Jack. He couldn't take it anymore. Tears ran down his face, as well, hidden among the remnants of rain. Why did it have to happen this way? Fate had to be wrong, it _had_ to be. This _couldn't_ be the way things were supposed to happen. _No._

- - - - -

Talia crossed her arms and glared at Drew's dead body. He was most definitely dead. There was no way he could come back…or something. And that made her slightly happier. No more Drew.

At this point, she turned toward the stone chest full of Aztec gold. She saw the cadaver lying near it. Judging by the way Jack the monkey was sitting, staring at it, hunched over, she couldn't figure out who the body belonged to. She now knew Jack had killed her uncle, but she just didn't have the heart to be angry with him at the moment. Not now, with Sarah the way she was. Talia looked up at the silver sky, which appeared almost as if it were crying, crying tears of mourning for the lost.

It would be time to return to the duo soon.

- - - - -

Sarah and Jack could say nothing more, just sit together and know the truth. It was unfair. So many things lay ahead, so why did Sarah have to go so quickly. It was unfair.

Talia's footsteps made light, crunching noises against the dark sand underfoot. She came to Jack's side and crouched next to him. Her timing was impeccable. Sarah took a deep, shuddering sigh.

"Hey Talia." Talia smiled and nodded. "Do something for me, will you?" Just for a little while…n-not too long…watch Jack--make sure he doesn't do anything…stupid." Both women exhaled slightly in a short laugh.

"In return, say hello to Asher and me brother for me."

Sarah nodded. "Okay." Her gaze shifted back to Jack, but she said nothing. They could read each other's gaze and hear what the other was not saying. Jack squeezed her hand one more time.

The wind sighed and the rain quivered. For a fleeting moment, all Jack wanted to hear was Sarah's voice, just once more; but she said nothing. Her eyes closed and she was still. Talia sat down.

It was finished. It was over now. _No, God no…_ It was cruel twist of destiny. It felt so wrong. Talia sighed, but Jack barely heard it. Sarah's hand, which had been cold already from the rain, became colder in his hand. "No…" Talia dropped a hand onto his shoulder. She knew that he felt the same way she did when she lost her friend and her brother.

"…I'm sorry." She said. She hated to see her comrade go, too. The Death Lily wasn't the same anymore without Asher and Adrian, and now Sarah was gone as well. Luck had really dealt a bad hand.

Eventually, they dug a hole in the sand and buried Sarah beneath one of the trees. They couldn't just leave her on the beach. It was really terribly sad. Perhaps it wouldn't have been as awful, had they not had to watch her die, slowly in front of them.

The two of them sat in silence for a long time, just letting the rain drench them, lost in thought. Soon, Talia said something about returning to the Pearl, so Jack slowly stood up and followed Talia back to the little boat that would take them to the Pearl. He was too upset to argue with her about which of them should have lead the way to the ship.

Next to the Pearl was the Death Lily. It turned out that Talia's crew had stopped in Tortuga, after figuring out, using common sense, that Drew had kidnapped her, and found out the destination and the location of the island (somehow; the location-finding-out part was still a little blurred). Talia had her ship, Jack had his. It was time to head home.

Jack and Talia had agreed to travel together one last time, just until they reached the next island. It was the end of their negotiation--Drew was dead and Jack had helped Talia. He knew this…and it hurt, because the deal had been that Sarah would come with him if he helped Talia to her satisfaction. She could never come. Jack really loved her. Now…she was gone. He stood at the side of his ship and remembered, wishing she were there with him, as he looked at her necklace.

He could never love anyone like he loved Sarah, he knew.

And it rained and rained.


	19. Epilogue

When the two ships arrived at the island, the one that Sarah and Jack had skipped when they had gone off to rescue Talia, both crews dispersed about the town to rest until they next set sail. Talia left to plunder, partly for the treasure, and partly to get her mind away from Sarah. Jack could have don't the same at the tavern, but for some reason, he didn't have the will. He sat on the docks at stared at the sea, holding the necklace in his hand. He couldn't ask why; he'd never get an answer. There was no answer. He could guess and hypothesize and blame forever, but it would never, ever lead to anything. She was just…gone.

"Jack, I'm not going to have to stay with ye to make sure ye don't die of depression, right?" Talia was using up the last of her lament-induced kindness. Then again, now that she thought about it, she didn't hate Jack as much as she used to. He was actually pretty okay. He turned to look at her.

"…No." He laughed a little. As much as he probably _felt_ like he'd die of depression, she didn't need to stick around to make sure he didn't. He wasn't going to. "Where are you off to after this?" He asked. She shrugged.

"Dunno. Plunder the unplundered. Maybe I'll go to…I don't know, someplace different for a while. I'll be back to the Caribbean, though, I can assure you of that. I'll somehow wind up here." She brushed her hair out of her eyes. It had stopped raining, but the space above remained its cloudy, dull gray, speckled with open spots of equally gray sky. The whole atmosphere was gloomy. "You?"

"…" He honestly did not know. He, too, shrugged.

"Nice, specific answer. I like that. It _really_ lets me know what you're thinking."

"Doesn't it?"

They both fell silent. It would be strange not traveling with each other after doing it for so long. Both knew it.

"Well…I think I'm going to grab me crew and set off. Jack, it's been…interesting." She held out a hand and he took it, shaking it. "Until next we meet. May it not be too soon--or I may have to kill you." That was Talia for you. Spoil a nice moment.

"Sure." He smiled half-heartedly. "'Till then, Miss Frost."

She turned on her heel and strode off into the town. She was coping with the lack of Sarah much better than he was. He wasn't sure if he'd ever completely get over it. He knew for a fact that Talia would never completely get over the loss of her brother and her best friend. He couldn't just sit around and mope, though. It wasn't what pirates did and it wasn't what Sarah would have wanted. Or anyone, really.

- - - - -

Talia stood next to Ryan, watching the invisibles head back to the ship with waning interest. Watching invisibles was really, really boring. "Well. This is intense." Ryan laughed.

"Oh, _real_ exciting." He looked at her and raised his eyebrows. She wasn't as depressed as she had been about Adrian and Asher. She seemed pretty normal, actually. "You gonna be okay without your bro, friend, and only woman crew member?"

She nodded. "Sure. As long as you or Chess don't up and croak one day, I'll be fine." She laughed. Yes, she'd be alright, she could handle it nowadays. "Now if these dem invisibles would just hurry up, I won't have to go ballistic." It was Ryan's turn to laugh. He didn't want a berserk Talia on the ship anymore than anyone else. "Hurry up!! We'll set sail today if it kills half of ye!"

- - - - -

What _would_ Jack do after he left this little island? Wander? Pillage? Perhaps. Looking thoughtfully at the blue pendant on the necklace, Jack wished he could ask somewhat what to do, because he didn't know. He didn't know what to do next, he didn't know how to deal with losing someone he loved so much, he just didn't know. All he knew was that he had to do something, now, not just sit.

Then a thought dawned upon him; he could tell the story. His story, about the cursed treasure, about Will and Elizabeth, about Barbossa and the Black Pearl, about Sarah, about Talia, about Drew, the Death Lily, the Nosferatu, everything. Why not? What did he have to lose? He needed to keep the memories alive, because, though they were unbelievable, crazy, and sometimes tragic, they were a treasure, and what good is treasure if you can't show it off to people, eh?

That was what he'd do. Tell the story. He stood up and looked over at the Death Lily. Talia was beginning to herd her crew onto the ship and was looking annoyed, as always. He shambled into the middle of the town, feeling a little more upbeat than a few minutes ago. He had something to do now. He took one, nice, long look around at all of the people, who were bustling around, absorbed in their agendas. Women hurried about in their pastel colors or shades of brown and green, toting baskets with goods concealed within. He then spied a man, looking bored, near a small building. Glancing at the sky and trying to figure out how long it'd be until dark, he approached the man.

"Excuse me, sir, but can I ask ye a question?"

"…Alright."

"At the moment, how much free time d'you have to spare?"

"Why, I've got the rest of the day, why do you ask?"

Captain Jack Sparrow smiled, squeezing the necklace in his hand and remembering. "Would you like to listen to my story?"


End file.
